


Romeo and Julian

by Racey



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racey/pseuds/Racey
Summary: My version of Romeo and Juliet. It's still a tragedy.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

_Hand in mine, into your icy blues_

_And then I'd say to you we could take the highway_

_With this trunk of ammunition too_

_I'd end my days with you in a hail of bullets_

XOXOXO

"Asshole."

"An' proud of it, Kurosaki. Dontcha ever forget it."

Ichigo stared disdainfully at his hated nemesis, his family rival, his worst goddamned nightmare: Grimmjow fucking Jaegerjaques. _He and Grimmjow got along like oil and water, which, as you could imagine, was not at all_. They were currently in the cafeteria of Karakura High, seated at their self-designated tables, which just so happened to be directly across from each other. Ichigo was perched on the table top, legs resting on the picnic bench-styled seat as he glared over at the blue-haired bastard that he absolutely could not stand.

Grimmjow was seated in much the same fashion, thick arms crossed over his broad chest as he shot daggers at Ichigo with those incredibly deep, blue eyes. Grimmjow wore a form-fitting, long-sleeved, gray, v-neck tee with acid washed blue jeans that hung low on his hips and were barely held in place by a thunder cloud gray, cloth belt. He was handsome, that Ichigo couldn't and wouldn't deny, but he was also the enemy and therefore off limits as hell.

Grimmjow gave him a smirk that curled his upper lip and Ichigo gave the blue-haired boy the finger. Grimmjow barked a laugh, making his entourage join him. His entourage included the ever present blond, Ilforte Grantz, the annoying dark-haired boy, Luppi, that was shorter than Ichigo's little sisters and had more mouth than a Great White shark, the sinfully lazy brunet, Starrk Coyote, and a tall, buxom blonde with clear, green eyes named Tia Halibel, but everyone called her Halibel. They surrounded the blunet like a safety net and Grimmjow soaked up the attention like a starved child.

Ichigo shook his head and finally took a seat at the table the correct way. He lifted his head from his lunch tray and locked gazes with Szayel, who was watching him intently, pink eyebrows arched with amusement and mustard-colored eyes dancing with mirth. Ichigo scowled and glanced away, wondering why his friend had been looking at him like that.

The low rumbling of Grimmjow's laughter distracted him and had Ichigo looking over his shoulder surreptitiously. He watched as the blue-haired teen grinned at him and stuck out his long, pink tongue, a silver stud decorating its center. Ichigo's breath hitched, but he narrowed his eyes at Grimmjow, trying to hide the fact that the sight of that tongue had his stomach in knots and his loins reacting awkwardly. _Everything about Grimmjow affected him the wrong way_. Ichigo didn't deny his sexual preference for guys, but, in his family, being attracted to the enemy was equivalent to going bungee jumping without the cord.

The Jaegerjaques family and the Kurosaki family had never gotten along, simply because the heads of each, ran lucrative weapons industries and were competing for the top spot. It was trivial, but in the corporate world, it was law. There was always the saying, "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer", but in this case, it was strictly forbidden for a Kurosaki to consort with a Jaegerjaques, none of the higher ups thinking that if the two were joined, the ending result would benefit both sides.

 _There was too much pride involved_.

And since Ichigo happened to be a Kurosaki and Grimmjow a Jaegerjaques, it was only natural for them to hate each other, taking verbal jabs at one another and trading insults whenever their paths crossed. It was especially critical since they attended the same high school and were under daily observation. Regular students worshiped them, some on different levels, while others envied and talked badly about them behind their backs, never to their faces. _Either way, it didn't matter_. _They were rich and popular and lived by a completely discrepant set of rules_. _Reality didn't affect them the way it did for other people_.

Ichigo let his eyes roam over the blue-haired teen, slowly taking in the black, scripted words tattooed on each side of his strong, tanned neck and down the insides of his forearms that were revealed by the sleeves to his shirt being rolled up. Ichigo stowed away the sight of the silver, mid-ear cuffs on both ears, as well as the 00 gauges in each lobe. Grimmjow was a beautiful specimen from his head down to his shoes, which happened to be gun metal gray, low-top Converse sneakers. When Ichigo met Grimmjow's gaze, there was a slow, contemplative look in those cold blue eyes, making Ichigo fight a blush as he turned away.

_What the hell had he been thinking staring at the blue-haired teen like that?_

Ichigo shook his head, unaware of the looks being exchanged between Szayel and Ilforte.

**XxxxxxX**

"Alright, I'll see you there," Ichigo said before disconnecting his phone call.

Ichigo grinned into the bathroom's full-body mirror at his reflection, turning first to the right, then to the left as he studied his costume. Earlier that week, Szayel had invited him to a Halloween party he and his brother, Ilforte, were throwing at his family's mansion and Ichigo was dressing to kill, as well as having fun with the idea. He had temporarily dyed his shoulder-length, bright orange hair a deep auburn and styled it in a wind-tossed fashion. Unlike the character he was imitating for the night, Ichigo's hair was shorter on the sides and up top, only managing to cover his brow and taper down his neck, but it would still work for the look he was trying to achieve.

He adjusted the tight, black, spandex pants that had horizontal, magenta stripes running down the sides of each leg, as well as the equally tight, magenta body shirt that hugged every last line and curve of his torso, showing off his clearly defined abdomen and pectorals. Ichigo slipped his feet into a pair of mock, knee-length armored boots (they were only combat boots dressed up to look like armor) and tugged the black head gear over his head, adjusting it to his hairline and around his face. He grabbed a pair of black leather gloves and snipped off the fingers for the thumb, index and pinkie fingers of both before pulling them onto his hands, where they fit snugly.

Ichigo turned to the large, beige marble-top sink where he'd stowed his long, camel-brown trench coat and slid into it. He chuckled at his reflection and grabbed the silver staff he'd leaned against the wall near the sink. After one last look in the mirror, Ichigo grinned saucily and left the bathroom, flicking off the light as he went.

 _He had a Halloween party to attend at the Grantz's mansion_.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow gave his blond friend a bland look over his shoulder. "What the hell're ya talkin' 'bout?" he snapped.

 _His costume was NOT cheesy_.

Ilforte smiled and leaned back on his hands on Grimmjow's large, plush bed, adorned with a deep purple sheet and comforter, as well as matching pillow cases. "It most certainly is. You make me wanna get out my souvenir maracas and start singing 'La Cucaracha'," Ilforte drawled.

Grimmjow scowled, but couldn't hold back the laugh that was fighting to escape him. "Fuck you," he grumbled good-naturedly.

He turned back to the mirror on the back of his bedroom door and stared at his costume, wondering where he'd gone wrong. _It looked exactly like the pictures he'd Googled on the internet_. He was wearing the disc-like black hat, a black bandana to cover his hair, a black, silk scarf over his eyes, with holes cut out for him to be able to see, a black, linen, billowy, long-sleeved shirt that cuffed at the wrists, a large, black silk sash around his waist, black pants that fit him tighter than he liked, black, knee-length boots and a black cape. To top off the costume, he donned a pair of black, leather gloves, stuck a silver fencing sword at his right hip and temporarily dyed his bright blue hair an inky black.

 _In his opinion, his costume was perfect_.

"I don' see the problem with it," he continued to grumble, making Ilforte scoff from his spot on the oversized bed.

"Grimmjow, you look like Puss n' Boots! Get rid of the fuckin' cape and the corny ass hat! Please! Christ, I'm gonna start callin' you Antonio Banderas in a minute," the blond said with a smirk as he sat up and perched on the edge of the bed.

Grimmjow turned and gave his friend a deadpan stare. "That's the point, dumbass. I'm supposed ta be Zorro!" he said, pulling out his sword and brandishing it, knocking over the bottle of lotion and deodorant on his dresser in the process.

Ilforte covered his grin with the back of his hand. "Right. You're a shitty ass swordsman, then."

Grimmjow flipped the other teen the bird and continued scowling. "Your costume ain't no better," he muttered, turning back to the mirror and untying the cape from around his neck.

Ilforte sucked his teeth and feigned hurt. "I'll have you know that I worked really hard on my costume."

It was Grimmjow's turn to scoff as he chucked the hat to his outfit in the corner of his room. "Yeah, right. It must take a helluva lotta effort ta look like a bum."

Ilforte chuckled and rose from the bed, fishing around in his dark blue jeans pockets. "Well, I don' wanna be the usual vampire or, kami forbid, a fuckin' ghost slash skeleton," he spat, his blond brows creasing in annoyance.

Grimmjow chuckled and ran a hand over his concealed head, resting it on the knot that held his mask together. "I can' wait ta see how many chicks come as witches and playboy bunnies."

Ilforte guffawed and paused at Grimmjow's back, waiting for him to move from in front of the bedroom door. "So true, but you forgot she-devils and slutty maids," he added.

Grimmjow gave his friend an amused grin as he pulled the door open and stood to the side. "Yeah, yer right. I'll see ya at the party."

Ilforte nodded and left the room, but before he disappeared down the wide, off-white hallway, he said over his shoulder, "Don' forget to leave that hat and cape at home, Grimmjow, or else I'll kick your ass outta my party."

Grimmjow slammed his bedroom door in response, a wide grin gracing his features.

 _Ilforte was an idiot_.

**XxxxxxX**

Grimmjow hopped out of the back seat of the black, luxury sedan, knowing full well that he planned to get shit-faced, hence the designated driver for the night. He turned and peered back into the leather-smelling vehicle at Shawlong. "Yo, Shaw, don' wait up," he grunted, his hand on the shiny black door.

Shawlong turned to face him and nodded stiffly. "Yes, but Grimmjow-sama, do be careful. You know how your father gets when you're out late," he said, his drawling monotone holding a slight hint of concern.

Grimmjow nodded and slammed the door shut before heading inside the humongous mansion through the elaborate double door entrance. The doors had to be at least fifteen feet high and were carved out of the most expensive cherry wood one could imagine. The rest of the sprawling abode was made of ancient gray stone, the architecture lending an antique feel to the building.

Grimmjow made his way past white rose bushes shaped in the form of the letter "G". There was a large fountain out front, sporting a naked cherubic statue that reeked of Greece and the driveway that Shawlong had pulled into was circular, the ground made up of multicolored cobblestones. In short, the house was beautiful and took up more land than a shopping center.

As he shuffled into the house, making sure his sword was still securely by his side, he could hear loud music coming from the lower level of the colossal house. Grimmjow headed over to the silver double doors a little past the foyer, where a short, red-haired kid stood, sucking on a bright red lollipop.

"Yo, Jinta. Who's here so far?" Grimmjow asked, making the shorter boy crane his neck to get a good look at him.

Jinta shrugged before turning back to the doors and a tiny gold panel beside them. He pressed a round, milky white button with the letter "B" on it and sighed. "I don't know. There's already so many," he answered.

Grimmjow nodded as they waited for the elevator to ascend from the lower level of the house, Jinta sucking noisily on his lollipop as they did so. Grimmjow allowed his mind to wander back to earlier that day in school during lunch. He was used to arguing and bickering with that low-life, Kurosaki, but today, he'd felt something a little different. _Sure, they had traded the usual insults, had even flipped each other off a few times, but then Kurosaki had to go and make him THINK_.

Kurosaki had given him a look that had definitely made him again wonder what it would be like to actually be with his arch rival, or at the very least, sleep with him. Kurosaki was different from his younger sisters with his shoulder-length, bright orange hair and lazy, satiny brown eyes. Grimmjow hated the freckles on the other teen's face because he'd always liked them. _Oxymoron much?_

 _Yeah, well, he'd always had a thing for freckles and dimples and Kurosaki had the audacity to have both, so he hated them_. _That wasn't where the contradictions ended, though_. Grimmjow hated the fact that Kurosaki had a body that he admired. _It wasn't like his own, where it was cut and showed how all the hard work in the family gym had paid off, no_. Kurosaki was toned and all sleek muscle. Grimmjow had only ever seen Kurosaki's arms and lower legs during Phys Ed, but there had been one time during lunch that he'd seen the teen's subtly chiseled abdomen, when he'd been showing off a tattoo of a black dragon he'd just gotten. Grimmjow had been embarrassed to realize he'd been staring and had been grateful that no one had seen him.

Aside from Kurosaki's tempting body, Grimmjow noticed that the teen didn't mind being different. Kurosaki had to be the only male in existence – that he knew of – that had a nose stud. The tiny, diamond stud rested on his right nostril and sparkled whenever the light hit it the right way. It had fascinated the hell out of Grimmjow when he'd first noticed it. Kurosaki also had his left eyebrow, upper ears and tongue pierced. His ear piercings were industrial and the tongue stud he favored was the same color blue as Grimmjow's eyes.

The tongue ring had given him pause several times. Kurosaki had gotten it maybe a few months after Grimmjow had gotten his own – which had been cause for gloating and more arrogant comments – and he'd been mesmerized. Kurosaki had a great smile and when he laughed, his deep, throaty voice was only made better by the sight of that tongue stud.

Grimmjow knew that his attraction to his enemy was treading on thin ice, which was why he kept it under wraps. No one needed to know that he visually molested his hated peer on a near daily basis. He knew that if his father found out, he would probably be sent to Antarctica for his betrayal. _The Jaegerjaques family did NOT associate with the Kurosaki family_. _At all_.

 _Sucked_.

Which led him back to the sensation he'd felt earlier in school. Kurosaki had looked over his shoulder at him and...studied him...from head to feet and back. It made goosebumps appear over his skin as he entertained naughty thoughts of banging his arch nemesis into a wall...or bed...or sink...whatever they happened to be close to at the time would suffice. Grimmjow'd had to shake his head fervently after Kurosaki had looked away, just to banish those thoughts.

 _Dangerous_.

 _Very dangerous_.

 _But HOT_.

Grimmjow stepped onto the elevator once it arrived and waved at Jinta, who gave him a salute before the doors slid shut. The short ride to the basement did nothing to settle his nerves, but the instant the doors reopened, the thumping bass to Lil Wayne's "6 Foot 7 Foot" washed over him and vibrated his insides and the smell of cigarette and marijuana smoke filled his sinuses, hiking his adrenaline to "unhealthy".

He scanned the crowded space that was normally cavernous, with pale blue walls and dark, hardwood flooring. All the furniture – which only consisted of a black, leather sofa and love seat, a glass coffee table and two glass end tables – had been removed. A huge, mounted flat-screen TV showed music videos while the music played in the background, the regular lights were dimmed and strobe lights illuminated the dance area, making the sea of dancing people look like a scene from a horror flick.

Grimmjow pushed through the writhing mass of dancers and made his way towards the raised and lighted bar at the far end of the room, having spotted Ilforte's snobby fraternal twin, Szayel. Szayel wore a pair of black slacks, a white, collared shirt with a gold and burgundy striped tie and a black and burgundy cloak-styled robe. Grimmjow grinned and shook his head incredulously when he realized who the pink-haired teen was dressed as.

"'Ello, 'Arry!" he shouted into Szayel's ear once he was right beside him.

Szayel whirled around and glared at him, placing his hands on his narrow hips. A few seconds passed before Szayel's lips curved into a wide, devious grin and a single, elegantly sculpted, pink eyebrow arched. "Shall I get my sombrero, Senor?" he asked coyly.

Grimmjow scowled beneath his mask and rolled his eyes, shoving past the shorter boy to the counter of the bar. Grimmjow laughed at the sight of the dark-haired Grantz cousin standing behind the counter, his arms folded across his chest and his face fixed into a sneering pout. His rectangular framed glasses hid his dark blue eyes and his inky hair framed the sides of his angular face. _He wasn't even wearing a costume, unless jeans and a tee qualified as such_.

"What's wrong, Ishida? Not feelin' the Halloween spirit?" Grimmjow questioned sarcastically.

Ishida gazed down his nose at him, even though Grimmjow was clearly the taller person. "Why should I humiliate myself, dressing as something I'm obviously not and ingesting too much alcohol, only to further make a fool of myself while dancing?"

Grimmjow curled his upper lip back, his mouth opening slightly as he gave Ishida a blank stare. _What the hell was he going on about?_ "Ohhh-kaayyy, whatever. Gimme a shot a'Patron," he ordered casually.

Ishida turned and went about pouring the drink, while Grimmjow gave his attention back to his friend's brother. "Szayel, how the hell did you an' Ilforte get the key ta yer old man's liquor cabinet?" he asked, curious because the Grantz sire was notorious for keeping it under padlock and key.

Szayel grinned as he lifted a small glass of something pink to his lips. "We didn't. We got the key to our mother's," he replied, his mustard-colored eyes shimmering with amusement.

Grimmjow barked a laugh, but before he could say anything else, Ishida cleared his throat loudly. "Here, buffoon."

Grimmjow shot the dark-haired boy a nasty look and growled, "Watch yer fuckin' mouth."

Ishida just gave him a dead stare. "You know, Grimmjow, if you really wanted to scare someone, you might try NOT looking so ridiculous," he drawled.

Grimmjow frowned and started to lean over the bar, when his arm was tugged and he came face to face with broadly smiling blond. Ilforte was dressed in a tattered, black tee that was filthy and littered with holes and tears of various sizes. His blue jeans were no better, ripped widely at the knees and around the ankles and the pair of white sneakers he wore had definitely seen better days. His long, usually lustrous hair was tied back in a low ponytail and a dark cable knit hat was pulled down over his ears. Ilforte had apparently smudged dark makeup spots over his face to give the illusion of dirt and in his mouth was a set of fake teeth that were brown and gross. Grimmjow doubled over with laughter.

"Holy shit! 'Forte, ya look a mess!" he cackled.

Ilforte's grin spread. "Dass da point," he slurred through the fake teeth.

Grimmjow remembered his drink and knocked it back. He started to demand more, but Ilforte gripped his arm and pulled him away from the bar. Frowning, he tried to resist, but Ilforte insisted and dragged him towards a raised table on the other side of the room. Grimmjow climbed onto one of the equally raised stools and grinned at the sight of several bottles of alcohol strewn across the table top.

"What's this? VIP?" he asked.

Ilforte opened his mouth to speak, scowled and pulled the set of fake teeth out of his mouth. Working his mouth a bit, the blond teen sighed. "That's better. And I guess you could call it VIP. I just didn't wanna deal with Uryuu all night, so I pilfered a few bottles from my mother's liquor cabinet just for us," he said.

"Jeez, how big is yer mom's liquor cabinet, Ilforte?"

"Oh, well, we call it a cabinet, but it's really more like a cellar. It's underneath us, actually. My mom is a total lush. Plus, she likes to throw these huge parties, so you know. Extra alcohol required. Thankfully, she and the old man are out of town for the weekend."

Grimmjow grunted and ran his hand over his concealed hair. He was getting hot, so he removed the leather gloves on his hands and untied the bandana over his hair, leaving the eye mask in place. He ran his hand over his hair again, careful not to disturb the slicked back style he'd adapted for the evening. He didn't realize that Ilforte was watching him until he looked up and caught his friend's gaze.

"That looks much better," the blond stated absently before glancing out at the swaying school of bodies.

Grimmjow shrugged and followed his friend's line of vision, eyes widening at what he saw. _He needed another drink_. After he poured himself another shot of tequila, he allowed his eyes to hungrily devour the teen standing on the other side of the dance floor. Grimmjow recognized the costume as the X-Men character, Gambit. He didn't recognize the reddish-brown hair that was shining under the blinking party lights, but the body on the kid was superb.

 _It kind of reminded him of Kurosaki's body_.

Grimmjow smirked as he downed another shot of tequila, making it his third. _Another guy with a body like Kurosaki's, was lucky indeed_. _He could hit on him without feeling bad for going against his family_. Grimmjow watched the boy glide through the bodies gathered on the floor and towards the bar, where he stopped to get something to drink. From there, Grimmjow's view was obscured, so he turned to Ilforte, who was already giving him a sideways smile.

"See somethin' you like?" he asked.

Grimmjow smiled in return and nodded. "Hell, yeah. Didja see that guy with the long, trench coat? I think he's 'posed ta be Gambit from X-Men. He's fuckin' hot," he ended in a mumble as his eyes went back to the bar and searched for said guy.

Ilforte hummed as his smile reached his sideburns. "I think I know that guy."

Grimmjow's head swung around so fast, he almost got whiplash. "Wha? Ya know him?" he asked, eyes wide and nearly desperate.

If Ilforte knew that sexy ass guy, then those were less steps Grimmjow needed to take in order to get in the other man's pants, which he had every intention of doing. _He hadn't been laid in like forever and he refused to go another night without relieving that stress_.

"You know 'im, too," Ilforte said, lazily bringing a shot glass to his lips as he watched Grimmjow over the rim.

That made Grimmjow pause. _HE knew him too? In that case, Gambit could be anyone_. Grimmjow threw back another shot and furrowed his brow. _Where did he know him from?_ Grimmjow peered over at Ilforte and sighed. Ilforte was wearing that look that said "That's all you're getting out of me" and Grimmjow knew that no amount of pressing would make his friend reveal Gambit's identity.

 _It was up to him to figure out the secret on his own_.

XOXOXO

Ichigo sat down at the round, black table Szayel had set aside for their group, drink in hand as he playfully nudged Tatsuki to the side. Tatsuki had her dark, spiky hair down and wore a black, leather bustier, tight black leather pants and black, leather, knee-high, stiletto boots. When Ichigo had asked her what she was supposed to be, she had simply replied, "A slut."

Chado wore a black sweater, black jeans and black Timberland boots. His wavy, cocoa brown hair hid his right eye and there was dark makeup around his left eye like a bruise and around his mouth, indicating someone had sewn it shut. It made sense considering how little Chado spoke.

Renji was dressed as a police officer, his long, bright red hair flowing over his broad shoulders and the black uniform hugging his muscular body like it missed him. Ichigo had to keep himself from drooling at his friend, knowing the red head was very straight and pretty much a whore. Renji didn't discriminate. If it had boobs and a pussy, he was going to fuck it. Ichigo was just glad Renji was safe in his activities, always making sure he used a condom to prevent STDs and other nasty side effects of casual sex.

At the moment, Renji had his eyes glued to a tall, green-haired girl on the other side of the room. Ichigo knew who she was; she was Grimmjow's cousin, Neliel tu Odershvank. _If boobs were cars, Nel's would be a top of the line Maserati_ ; they were huge and spilling out of the playboy bunny costume she wore. Her waist was tiny, her hips wide and legs long and shapely. She was any straight guy's wet dream, which was why Renji had her in his sights.

Ichigo had already downed several glasses of white rum and pineapple juice, his head light and body buzzing pleasantly and aside from a few stubborn chicks hitting on him, he was enjoying his night.

"Ichigo, what made you dress as Gambit?" Tatsuki suddenly asked, her dark eyes glowing with curiosity.

He shrugged and sipped at his seventh drink, eyes taking in the darkened basement of Szayel's family's mansion. The room was huge, with a high ceiling and glossy, hardwood flooring. The atmosphere was very club-like and sophisticated for a house party thrown by two teenage boys. Ichigo chuckled at the inebriated bodies dancing like a bunch of toddlers on the floor, the alcohol he'd consumed beginning to catch up to him and casting a hazy blanket over his senses. _That was the thing with rum_. _It sneaked up on you and by the time you realized it, you were already hammered_.

The rapidly flashing lights illuminated the dance floor and for a quick couple seconds, Ichigo spotted what he thought had to be a kami itself, nodding and swaying drunkenly to Kevin Rudolf's "I Made It". He was dressed from head to toe in all black, a mask covering his eyes, but not his head of thick, raven-colored hair. He was tall, muscular and had a devious smirk that smacked loudly of Ichigo's enemy, Grimmjow. It couldn't be him, though; this guy had jet-black hair and besides, Ichigo hadn't seen the blue-haired teen all night.

Ichigo bypassed his mixed drink, poured himself a shot of straight rum and knocked it back, his stomach simmering and head swimming. A slim hand extended towards him from his left, making him turn to see who it belonged to. Szayel, dressed as Harry Potter, stared at him, pink eyebrows arched in amusement.

"Are you sure you should be doing that, Ichigo?" he asked, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Ichigo snorted and poured another shot, downing that one as well. _He wanted to be good and twisted before he went out on the dance floor to study that sexy guy he'd just seen_. "Yeah, m'pretty sure," he said slowly, enunciating his words carefully.

Tatsuki and Renji burst into laughter and Ichigo swung his head towards them, regretting the action immediately after he did it. He closed his eyes and decided that maybe the two extra shots he'd just drunk were enough to accomplish the goal he had in mind.

 _Still_... _he wanted to know what was so damned funny_.

Before he could ask, Tatsuki took the initiative and placed a hand on his shoulder, her dark eyes gleaming with unbridled mirth. "Ichigo, you are officially fucked up," she stated.

Renji grinned over the rim of the small shot glass he held to his lips, nodding his head in agreement. Suddenly, Nel walked a little too close to their table and Renji's hand shot out like a viper, gripping her wrist before she could make it past. He set his glass on the table and stood, body in full predator mode as he led the tall girl towards the dance floor. Ichigo watched them with an air of mild curiosity and a lot of amusement and was disturbed to see Nel looking back at him with a lecherous kind of light in her gray eyes.

Ichigo rubbed his eyes and shook his head disbelievingly. When he looked back at the couple, they were already on the dance floor, moving like they were fucking with clothes on. Renji's right hand had maneuvered its way between Nel's parted thighs and was shamelessly cupping her sex through the black one piece body suit she wore. Ichigo grinned and nodded.

 _That was more like it_.

 _For a minute he'd thought Nel had been looking at him like she wanted him instead of his red-haired friend_.

The track switched and it took Ichigo all the way until the chorus to realize it was one of his favorite songs. When he did notice it, he surged from his seat, knocking over his empty shot glass and making Tatsuki erupt into another fit of giggles. He lumbered towards the dance floor, mouth numb and body having a mind of its own.

_In the back of the car  
On our way to the bar  
I got you on my lips  
(I got you on my lips)  
At the foot of the stairs  
With my fingers in your hair  
Baby, this is it_

He stumbled into the mass of gyrating and swaying bodies, bumping, none too softly, into other dancers, but everyone appeared too drunk to give a fuck. Ichigo had already divested himself of his long, brown trench coat, leaving him clad only in the tight, magenta body shirt and the tight, black and magenta pants. He was hot, he was wasted and he was having the time of his life. The only thing that would make his night even better would be getting laid by that hot guy he'd seen a little while ago.

_My first kiss went a little like this  
I said no more sailors  
And no more soldiers  
With your name in a heart  
Tattooed up in the shoulders  
Your kiss is like whiskey  
It gets me drunk  
And I wake up in the morning  
With the taste of your tongue_

Ichigo moved his body to the uptempo beat and sang along to the lyrics, brushing aside girls that tried to get too close to him. After a few attempts, they seemed to get the message. He was immersed in the music, when a strong pair of hands gripped his waist and a long, solid and firm body aligned with his from behind. Ichigo paused his dancing to look over his shoulder and his eyes went wide.

_It was him!_

Ichigo, too drunk to care about dancing courtesy, whirled around to face the taller guy, blinking up at him and trying to focus on one of the three sets of eyes he saw. The guy stared down at him with eyes bluer than any Ichigo had ever seen before and he'd seen a pair that he'd always thought outdid the sky in the Summer.

Music forgotten, Ichigo pressed himself closer to the other teen, trying his hardest to study him and figure out why he'd never seen him before. The dark-haired male wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist and narrowed those endlessly blue eyes, his mouth moving, making Ichigo realize that he was talking.

"What?" he shouted over the blaring music.

The taller boy smirked and again Ichigo was smothered with familiarity. "I said nice costume. Wha's yer name?" he slurred.

Ichigo shuddered at the sound of his deep, rumbling voice, ignoring the tugging at the back of his conscience, telling him that he knew this guy. He recovered more quickly than he'd thought he would, being as intoxicated as he was. "Gambit. Can'tchu tell?"

The tall boy's smirk widened as he leaned in closer, placing his mouth right next to Ichigo's ear and breathing warm air over it as he spoke. "Well, in that case, I'm Zorro."

Ichigo grinned and boldly placed a hand on Zorro's black, sash clad hip. "Nice t'meetcha, Zurro," he replied.

Zorro chuckled and if it was possible, moved even closer. "Nice ta meet ya too, Gambit. How 'bout we get outta here an' talk somewhere else?"

Ichigo'd thought he'd never ask.

"Hell yeah," he breathed in response.

Zorro held onto Ichigo's waist and led him away from the dance floor. They both stumbled and bumped into other teens, heading for the elevator in search of a little privacy. Ichigo couldn't help but think how out of character he was behaving, hooking up with some random guy, even if he was drunker than a sailor on leave. Then, he pushed the thought to the side, his raging libido winning out over his morale.

 _He would have time to think about that after the deed was done_.

They finally made it to the silver doors marking the elevator and Zorro stabbed the call button repeatedly before turning to him and giving him a lopsided grin that made Ichigo's heart jump. He was so sexy with his dark hair and ocean blue eyes, it was almost surreal. Ichigo leaned against the wall, his eyes sliding shut as they waited on the elevator. His eyes hadn't even been closed for more than a few seconds when that deep voice was rumbling in his ear again.

"I ain' losin' ya, am I?" Zorro asked.

Ichigo smiled saucily, his eyes still closed. "Not hardly," he muttered.

A soft nip to the shell of his ear had his eyes shooting open in shock as arousal swept him like a broom. "Good 'cuz I got plans for ya," Zorro growled and the sound went straight to Ichigo's groin like it was remote controlled.

The elevator doors slid back and Ichigo pushed away from the wall, his feet catching together, but Zorro's strong arm held him up by the waist as they staggered into the luxury pulley. Ichigo swallowed, his head swimming and vision blurring together, but his lower region was aching and agitated, yearning to be touched by the taller, dark-haired teen. All reservations thrown out the window, he pushed Zorro against the wall and gripping the back of the other boy's neck, Ichigo pulled him down far enough to sloppily connect their lips.

They both reeked of alcohol and Zorro even tasted mildly like tobacco, but Ichigo didn't care. In fact, he was enjoying it. _Enjoying it maybe a bit too much_ , he realized as he immediately opened his mouth to Zorro's anxiously probing tongue. It hadn't taken any time at all for the dark-haired teen to reciprocate the clumsy lip-lock and before Ichigo knew it, they were deeply immersed in a kiss that had his head reeling beyond that of what the alcohol was doing to him. _Although, he would admit, he was so drunk that anything would probably feel good, his nerves hyper sensitive to the slightest touch_.

Zorro growled low in his chest, the noise coming out as a thick burr that lifted the fine hairs all over Ichigo's body. Zorro put both large hands on Ichigo's hips and drew him close enough to make them appear like two puzzle pieces fitting together as he tilted his head and deepened the messy kiss, teeth nipping and tongue violating in the best way.

It was pretty obvious to Ichigo that they were both past the stage of pleasantly buzzed. _Hell, they were even light-years beyond drunk; they were fucking bent like silly straws_. Ichigo gasped when Zorro's mouth left his and attacked the underside of his chin and trailed down to the side of his neck, their positions being reversed as the other boy pressed Ichigo against the wall of the elevator. Zorro maneuvered a knee between Ichigo's legs and bit down harshly at his pulse, dragging a half-moan, half-yelp from the orange-haired teen as it felt like hot wax was being dripped across his pelvis and groin area.

Zorro pulled away from his neck and they locked eyes briefly, Ichigo having that faint feeling of familiarity as he studied those abysmal, ultramarine eyes before Zorro carelessly kissed him, this time tasting of Ichigo's skin, along with the alcohol and tobacco. Their tongues didn't fight, didn't war and battle for dominance, instead, they danced, they tangoed, they merged. Even though it was sloppy and rough, it was delicious and perfect.

Ichigo sighed against Zorro's soft lips, melding to the taller teen as his blood rushed through him like a jet on an airport runway. It didn't matter that he didn't know the boy, didn't matter that he'd only just met him a few minutes ago, didn't even matter that he would probably never see him again after tonight, but what did matter, was that very moment. _What was happening between them surpassed any casual encounter; it felt dangerously like fate_. Ichigo cringed at how corny that sounded in his mind as he thought it, but he wouldn't deny it. He and the dark-haired boy had been drawn to one another like ants to picnic baskets. _Sexual preference hadn't even come up; it was like they just KNEW_. Ichigo shut down his mind as he realized he was waxing poetic and it made him cringe again.

 _Back to Zorro_.

Zorro was running a strong hand down Ichigo's side and down the front of his pants, where he paused to boldly cup his genitals. Ichigo threw his head back and moaned loudly as Zorro's palm pressed and massaged him through the tight spandex, his tongue teasing and sharp teeth playful as they kissed urgently. Testosterone roared through the taller teen as he sucked on Ichigo's wet, pink appendage, but before they could get any further, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open, revealing a slack-faced Jinta.

Jinta looked like he wanted to say something, but Zorro gripped Ichigo's arm and pulled him past the stunned youngster and towards the stairs that led to the mansion's bedrooms. They clambered up the burgundy, carpeted staircase with a thick, wooden railing and barreled into the first room they came to, Zorro shoving Ichigo inside and slamming the door shut. The taller boy didn't hesitate to push him down onto the plush, four-poster, western-styled bed, immediately going for Ichigo's boots.

Once they were yanked off and tossed to the side, Zorro climbed on top of Ichigo and smothered him with heat and sheer masculinity. Ichigo groaned at the heady scent emanating from Zorro, drawing an absent-minded grunt from him in the process. They were careening through an ocean of unbridled lust and want like a motorized speedboat, neither of them very coherent at the moment, beyond the need for release.

Zorro's hands were tugging at the waistband of Ichigo's tight, spandex, black and magenta pants, grumbling agitatedly as his efforts to remove the cumbersome leg wear went in vain. "What the fuck!" the masked teen huffed. "Are these pants or pantyhose?"

Ichigo was conscious enough to chuckle at the rhetorical question as he lifted his hips and pulled at the pants himself, the spandex rolling over his pelvis, revealing his tanned skin. Zorro's eyes went half-mast and darkened to midnight pools of desire as he scanned Ichigo's exposed flesh.

"Tha's better," he rumbled, lowering his face to capture Ichigo's lips in another heated kiss.

Ichigo agreed one hundred percent.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow had been horny all night, but the feeling had peaked while he'd been on the edge of the dance floor, watching the other teens grind against one another in various stages of inebriation. _All those displays of barely concealed sexual interaction was driving him nuts_. He'd been trying to get Ilforte to tell him who Gambit was for the past couple hours, but the blond teen wasn't trying to hear it. He had even blatantly told Grimmjow that if he wanted to know so damned badly, he should just find out himself.

Which was what he'd set out to do...after consuming over eight shots of tequila and well on his way to being qualified as frat party wasted. He couldn't even feel his body anymore as he'd ambled over to the dance floor from the table he'd been sharing with Ilforte. _What was that saying when someone snorted too much coke? Oh, yeah_.

 _I can't feel my face_.

Grimmjow stood on the outskirts of the dance floor, eyes hungrily searching for the teen dressed as Gambit and getting more and more irritated the longer he went without spotting him. He'd been in the middle of watching that red-haired asshole from Kurosaki's crew, molest his cousin, Nel, when the flickering party lights spotlighted the very person he'd been trying to find.

Gambit was in the middle of the packed floor, swaying and nodding his head to the pulsating music as his sensuous-looking mouth moved over the lyrics of the song. Grimmjow remembered grinning wolfishly and gliding through the writhing teenagers to come up behind his current object of desire, where he eased his hands onto the shorter male's hips and pressed himself close to him.

 _He figured if that didn't get his point across, then nothing would_. It had been up to Gambit for them to proceed from there. The auburn-haired boy had turned and glared at first, only to have his...honey-brown eyes soften with recognition, which didn't make sense, considering Grimmjow had never seen him before. Then, Gambit had turned to face him fully and familiarity hit him like a metal shovel, making him light-headed and dizzy. The other boy had a tiny, diamond nose stud in his right nostril, the jewel twinkling under the flashing lights.

Grimmjow cocked his head to the side, sure that that piercing had some type of significance, but his alcohol-laden mind was unable to place it. It suited Gambit's straight nose and tanned skin. Grimmjow had overlooked the unsettling feeling in favor of getting into the other teen's tight, black pants. Gambit hadn't objected and they'd soon found themselves in one of the upstairs bedrooms. Grimmjow would just have to explain his actions to Ilforte after he was finished.

Gambit was firm and solid, but sleek and slender and he smelled like rum and something fruity. Maybe pineapples. When Grimmjow successfully had the other boy underneath him on the bed, his chest swelled with accomplishment. _He was about to fuck the guy he'd been watching damn near all night_.

 _Oh, happy day_.

Grimmjow had a problem getting the pants started on their trek down Gambit's legs, but the shorter boy helped him out, sliding the tight spandex over his hips and pelvis, where Grimmjow tugged them the rest of the way down. He yanked them off and tossed the annoying leg wear to the side, uncaring of where they landed as he stared ravenously down at long, tanned and toned legs that looked just perfect for wrapping around his waist. Gambit had also gone commando under those irritatingly tight pants, giving Grimmjow a wonderful view of his goods and consequently making his dick rise like it was pledging allegiance.

Grimmjow bit his bottom lip before untying the sash at his waist and undoing the buttons on his pants, so far gone, he didn't even notice the way Gambit narrowed his eyes at him. Once his pants were undone, Grimmjow hurriedly shucked them and unbuttoned his shirt, but didn't bother to remove it, instead lowering himself on top of the other boy and rubbing their naked groins together.

Gambit groaned breathlessly and Grimmjow moaned, burying his face in the side of Gambit's long, corded neck. _Kami, he couldn't wait_. _He wouldn't wait_. _He knew this was going way faster than he'd ever gone with any other person, but his libido was rampaging and his drunken state wouldn't support a long, drawn-out session at the moment_. _His dick was chanting, "hurry, hurry, hurry, now, now, now" and he really didn't want to ignore it_.

Grimmjow retreated, glancing around the bedroom wildly for something he could use as lubrication, when he spotted a bottle of something unscented on the high dresser in front of the bed. He rushed over to it, grabbed it and made haste back to the bed and the waiting auburn-haired boy, who was watching him with half-lidded and amused sepia eyes. Grimmjow squatted and rummaged through the pockets of his discarded pants for the condoms he never left the house without, dropping one in his hurry.

He didn't even give it a second glance as he climbed back onto the bed. Gambit pulled him down to face-level by the lapels of his button up shirt and kissed him thoroughly, his tongue lazily exploring the inside of Grimmjow's mouth. He moaned and pressed closer, his lower half stomping with impatience as the tension mounted and threatened to bowl him over.

He pulled back and stared into those sienna eyes that seemed so familiar, clearing his throat before saying, "This'll hurt. I don' think I got the patience ta prep ya," he muttered, absently hoping Gambit wouldn't take offense to what he was telling him.

 _It was the truth_. _He really didn't think he could wait long enough to prepare the shorter teen in his state_. _He was too fucking drunk and too fucking horny to sit tight_.

Gambit cackled and shifted his slim hips. "I don' care. Jus' fuck me, already," he murmured.

Grimmjow felt all the blood in his body pool in his already fully aroused loins at Gambit's statement. He nodded and opened the condom with his teeth before rolling it on, taking care not to tear it. _Gambit wanted him to fuck him, then, that's what he would do_. He popped open the bottle and poured some of the clear substance onto his fingers. "Open yer legs," he grunted.

Gambit hastily obeyed and Grimmjow spread the cool, sticky fluid between the other boy's cheeks, hoping he could hang on until the deed was done. The sight of those two, enticing globes of flesh parted for him, revealing a small, pink pucker, had his mouth watering and his length twitching anxiously. After making sure Gambit was lubricated enough, Grimmjow climbed to his knees and hovered over the other teen, their eyes locking again, sending that disconcerting feeling through him once more. Ignoring it, he positioned himself at Gambit's entrance and pressed forward without hesitation.

Gambit arched his back dramatically and clung to his shoulders like his very life depended on it, a sharp keening leaving him. Grimmjow connected their lips, swallowing the noises Gambit made as he pulled back some and pressed forward again, this time deeper. Gambit's breathing was shallow and his entire body was tense, but he never complained. In fact, he lifted his hips, making Grimmjow sink even deeper into his tight, inviting warmth.

Clenching his teeth, Grimmjow pulled back and thrust forward again, this time fully seating himself. Gambit groaned and bit his bottom lip, almost breaking the skin, but Grimmjow sucked it into his mouth and soothed it, trying to engage the auburn-haired teen in a sloppy kiss. Gambit was slow in replying, but he finally joined in the kiss, his tongue tentative and body spasming. Grimmjow really tried to wait and allow the other boy to adjust, but he was slipping out of consciousness and unsure of how long he could maintain his erection, so he braced himself up on his arms and started a steady rhythm, Gambit's insides sucking him in like a Hoover.

 _Kami, he was so tight_.

Grimmjow felt sweat immediately springing up all over his body, but particularly his armpits and abdomen as he concentrated on making them both come. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, mouth like a desert and throat like sandpaper. "So good," he moaned softly, eyes slitting open to focus on the boy beneath him.

Gambit had his eyes squeezed shut, his hands clawing at Grimmjow's shoulders, but his slim hips lifting to meet his, thrust for thrust. "Haah, p-please. J-just go faster," he warbled and Grimmjow grunted.

He picked up the pace and their hips came together noisily, fleshy slaps tainting the air. Grimmjow could feel his orgasm hurtling towards him, so he grasped Gambit's rigid length and stroked frantically, trying to bring him to climax before he himself met his release.

"Oh, kami," Gambit moaned, then hissed, his body twitching and jerking involuntarily. "H-harder. 'M almos' there," he babbled.

Grimmjow was fading, his orgasm impending, but he was determined to make Gambit come before he did. Gambit bucked his hips in time to Grimmjow's forceful thrusts and just when Grimmjow thought he wouldn't be able to last any longer, hot semen spilled over his hand and onto Gambit's belly as the auburn-haired teen opened his mouth in a silent scream. The visual sent Grimmjow tumbling over the summit of his pleasure mountain, making him explode into a million pieces as his energy left him in the form of ejaculation, his member throbbing and spent.

 _That had been the epitome of drunk sex_... _all roughness and no foreplay to speak of_. He sighed and leaned over, kissing Gambit's forehead before darkness enveloped him and sleep swept him away.

 _Hopefully, Gambit would still be there when he woke up_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Szayel and Ilforte huddled together outside the door they'd seen Grimmjow and Ichigo disappear behind, their heads meeting as they pressed curious ears to the wooden panel. The music from the party below was just loud enough to make it difficult to hear anything clearly, but Ilforte grinned secretively when a loud moan made itself known anyway. He glanced over at his twin, grin widening as he realized that Szayel must have heard the noise as well from the arched brows and widened eyes.

"Well..." the pink-haired teen started, his voice haughty and amused as he backed away from the door.

Ilforte rocked back on his heels and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his tattered jeans. He wore a smug smirk as he gave his attention to the door again. "Mission 'Get the idiots together': accomplished," he mumbled.

"I would say so. Now, how do we get them out of there without alerting them to each other's true identity?" Szayel questioned, chin tilted.

"That's easy. You saw how drunk they were. It'll be nothing to drag Ichigo out of there and have one of the drivers take him home. Grimmjow can stay here and sleep it off right where he is."

"Yes, well, that _sounds_ easy enough, but we both know things never tend to work out that simply."

"It will if we just stick to the script. We carry Ichigo downstairs, he gets taken home, Grimmjow sleeps here and neither will be the wiser. They still won't know they had sex with each other. I can't believe how clueless they are," Ilforte snorted.

Szayel nodded. "Indeed. Then again, their appearances had been drastically altered; I hadn't expected either of them to dye their hair. I would also have to blame the alcohol for them. However, there was no reason for Grimmjow not to recognize Ichigo's nose ring and Ichigo not to recognize Grimmjow's tattoos and eyes. There aren't many people with eyes like that cretin's."

"Hey, he's still my best friend," Ilforte snapped.

"Be that as it may," Szayel continued as if Ilforte hadn't even said a word. "You do realize that they will begin to remember small things the alcohol made them forget after this evening, yes?"

Ilforte gave a genuine smile. "Of course. That's the whole point. By then, though, it'll be too late. They'll have already fallen for each other."

"I never would have taken you for a hopeless romantic, brother," Szayel chided gently, mustard-colored eyes twinkling behind black, tortoise-shell frames.

"I just think they're made for each other. C'mon, admit it. They're perfect together."

Szayel gave a careless, one-shouldered shrug and leaned against the door. "Maybe."

"Whatever. Just make sure you put Ichigo's number in Grimm's cell and save it under Gambit. I'll do the same with Ichigo's phone. That way they'll see the numbers and start talking to each other and, knowing them the way we do, they'll mostly communicate through texts, which will make everything so much easier," Ilforte finished with stars in his dark eyes.

"All this work. It had better pay off, Ilforte."

"Stop worrying. It'll work; trust me."

XOXOXO

Ichigo slowly cracked open his eyes and immediately shut them afterward. The sun streaming through his bedroom window made the throbbing headache over his temples and behind his eyes pulse like a heartbeat. It was so bad that even his teeth hurt. He licked his lips, grimacing at the cracked and peeling skin. Getting trashed was always fun in the process, but the aftermath was never pretty. Ichigo gradually opened his eyes again, squinting them at the offensive light peeking between the slots of his blinds before sluggishly inching his way into a sitting position.

The throbbing turned into pounding, making him grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut again, praying for the pain to subside enough for him to make it to the bathroom. Relieving his bladder was first on the agenda for his day, drinking a shit load of water second. He knew how to avoid hangovers, but at the party he hadn't really been thinking about keeping himself hydrated. Ichigo had his legs hanging over the side of the bed when stunning, royal blue eyes flashed before his own. He paused, feeling his eyes gradually widening as he slowly registered crow-black hair that had been slicked back with gel, and a familiar, devilish smirk.

He'd had sex last night. With a complete stranger. And he'd enjoyed it immensely if he remembered correctly. The previous night was a little fuzzy here and there, but most of it managed to stand out pretty clearly. He distinctly remembered large, rough hands and dazzling, white teeth as well as a unique scent hiding under the unmistakable smell of too much liquor. Ichigo grinned through the sharp pounding in his head. Zorro had made him feel incredible last night, his piercing blue eyes clear as the surface of a Caribbean ocean.

Ichigo climbed to his feet and stumbled to the adjoining bathroom, his stomach lurching and warning him that he was about to expel everything he'd ingested in the past twenty-four hours, including any organs involved with his digestive system. He hurried into the lavish space, falling to his knees in front of the toilet before his chest heaved and he gagged desperately.

He hated hangovers.

An hour later saw him dressed and freshly pressed for his day. He left the bathroom feeling a lot more human, his legs not as unsteady as they had been. After making his way to his bed, he realized that he didn't even remember how he'd actually made it to his own home. The last thing he recalled was falling asleep - passing out rather - underneath the comforting weight of his brief companion, Zoro. Had he awakened and called for the family driver, Zangetsu? If he had, he certainly didn't remember doing so. Or had one of his friends taken him home? Shit. He hated losing time and memories of events. It made him paranoid and completely uneasy.

The loud buzzing of his cell phone roused him from his thoughts, making him amble over to his night stand and glance at the readout. Maybe he could ask one of his friends if they'd seen him leaving. He _had_ to find out what had occured after his romp with Zorro, if only just to soothe his mind.

_Incoming Call: Szayel_

Ichigo smiled to himself. Szayel was just the person to give him the answers he desired, considering he and his twin had been the hosts of last night's Halloween party. He quickly answered his phone with a short, "Yo."

A haughty snort floated over the line. "Yo yourself. How do you feel?"

"Like stepped on shit. You?"

"I'm perfectly fine, thanks," Szayel laughed. "I do believe I told you not to get completely wasted last night, but you never listen. Have you taken a couple aspirin? Drunk water?"

Ichigo huffed. "Yes, mother. Anything else you'd like to know?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. Did you enjoy your impromptu date? Don't think I didn't notice you stealing away with a tall figure dressed in all black."

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd miss that. In fact, I was counting on your unnatural awareness so you could fill in a few blanks for me. I'm sorta havin' a hard time remembering a few things from last night," Ichigo said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I would imagine so. Frankly, I'm surprised you don't have alcohol poisoning as much as you indulged at the party."

"Whatever. Ya gonna help me out or what?"

There was a brief pause before Szayel chuckled quietly. "What did you want to know?"

Ichigo plopped onto the bed as he replied. "Well, for starters, how the fuck did I get home? I don't remember calling my family's driver and I definitely don't remember anyone else offering me a ride."

"That's easy. I took you home. After you and your _friend_ passed out in the guest room and everyone started leaving, I enlisted Ilforte's assistance in dragging your lifeless carcass to my car. Then, your butler helped you to your room once we arrived at your house. It wasn't easy, I can assure you. You're quite heavy when you become nothing but dead weight," Szayel drawled and Ichigo could just imagine the derisive look that was surely pasted across his friend's angular features.

"Oh."

"Oh? That's all? All that explanation and the only thing you have to say is _oh_? How unsatisfactory. Anyway. How was the drunk sex?"

Ichigo felt his face ignite as firm, demanding lips invaded his mind and made it difficult for him to concentrate on the conversation. Still, he made the effort to force his wandering thoughts into submission.

"It was good, actually. _Really_ good," he added with a secretive smirk.

Szayel paused. "Is that so? Do you even remember the guy's name?"

"Yeah," Ichigo snapped defensively as he folded his arms across his chest, tucking the phone between his neck and shoulder. "It was Zorro."

"Bahahahaha! You're kidding, right? You _cannot_ be serious."

"What? That's the name he gave me!"

"It was also his costume, Ichigo. Really, I thought you'd have better sense than that."

"Fuck you," Ichigo muttered, his spirits falling as he realized he really knew nothing at all about the teen that had been dressed as the masked crusader. "Do you know who he was, Mr-Know-It-All?"

Szayel paused and when he spoke, Ichigo could practically hear the conspiritorial smirk. "Of course, but that's for you to find out on your own."

Ichigo gritted his teeth, a low growl escaping his chest. "That's not right, Szayel. I thought we were friends."

"No, no. Guilt trips won't work on me, Ichigo. However, I do believe your blue-eyed sexual liason demanded I take his number for you."

Ichigo froze, his mouth open. "What?"

"You heard precisely what I said. You know I hate when you do that," Szayel remarked with a long-suffering sigh. "Do gather what little remains of your brain. It will make this go much more smoothly."

Ichigo sucked his teeth, frustrated. Sometimes Szayel made him wonder why they were even friends to begin with. "Whatever, Pinkie. Ya gonna give me the number or continue being a stuck-up prick?"

"Well," Szayel huffed. "I suppose with an attitude like that, I'll just keep it to myself."

Ichigo massaged the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying desperately to resist the urge to climb through the phone and strangle his pink-haired friend. "Szayel, may I _please_ have the number?"

Again, Ichigo could hear the teen's smirk. "That's better. It's already saved in your contact list."

"I should kick your ass," Ichigo muttered as he dropped his hand to his lap and stared at the wall.

"But then you wouldn't have the pleasure of seeing my flawless face everyday. Anyway, I have to run. Tell _Zorro_ I said hello."

Szayel ended the connection and Ichigo shook his head. Szayel personified the term "haughty" and it was a wonder how he managed to keep any of his friends. Ichigo glanced at the black screen of his cell and swallowed. Worry flies filled his gut as apprehension took hold. What if Zorro didn't remember him? What if the dark-haired, gorgeous teen wanted nothing to do with him since they'd already had sex? Ichigo was hesitant to find out. Yes, Zorro was absolutely beautiful and deserved his own spot on the top ten best-looking men of all time, yes, he had been more than enthusiastic about relieving both of their sexual attractions towards each other, but that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to see Ichigo or hear from him again.

But wait.

Hadn't Szayel said that Zorro had _demanded_ he give Ichigo his number? That certainly sounded like he was interested in more than a one night stand to Ichigo. Steeling his nerves, Ichigo tapped the blank screen and pulled up his contact list. As he scrolled through, he wondered what Szayel would have saved the raven-haired teen's name under and wasn't surprised to find that it was the very last name on the list after Zangetsu. Zorro.

Ichigo stared at the numbers, his heart beginning to race and adrenaline slowly entering his bloodstream. Maybe he should wait a few days to reach out to the guy. He didn't want to seem overly eager, but then again, he didn't want to wait, either. He chewed on his bottom lip as his knee bounced up and down. What should he do?

Before he could settle on a decision, his phone buzzed in his hand and almost made him drop it in surprise. He glanced at the screen and his heart back-flipped.

_Incoming Text: Zorro_

Chest heaving, he could do nothing for the next several seconds except gape at the words. That meant that Szayel must have given Zorro Ichigo's number as well. Shit. With tremulous hands, Ichigo tapped the floating envelope and opened the message, his heart pounding strongly behind his ribs.

_Yo_

Ichigo grinned as he replied with the same greeting. A few seconds passed before his cell buzzed again.

_This Gambit, right?_

Ichigo's grin widened as he remembered that he wasn't the only one who had been given a fake name.

_Yeah. This Zorro, right?_

A few more seconds went by before Ichigo received a reply.

_LoL, yeah. I had fun wit u last night._

Ichigo kicked his legs up on the bed and settled back against his pillows. It was Saturday, so he really didn't have any plans, therefore, he could relax and hopefully get to know the teen that had taken his breath away the night before.

XOXOXO

Grimmjow rolled onto his side and smiled at the message on his cell.

_Yeah, me too._

After waking to the empty bed of one of the Grantz's guest rooms, he had been more than a little disconcerted and disappointed. He hadn't wanted to miss the chance to take Gambit's number. He definitely wanted to see the auburn-haired teen again so he could redeem himself. He hadn't been able to perform the way he normally would considering he'd been so drunk, but if he could just reach out to Gambit, then he'd have the chance to properly make the other boy scream.

Then, after hurling his life away that morning, Ilforte had sauntered into the room, smirking up a storm in Winnie the Pooh pajamas.

_"So, I take it you had a bit of fun last night," Ilforte stated sarcastically, one blond brow arched._

_Grimmjow lifted his head from the toilet seat and squinted at his best friend. He didn't manage much more than a grunt before his head became too heavy to hold up. He was dizzy as hell, had a tremendous headache, and was still quite nauseous._

_"I'll take that as an emphatic yes."_

_"What. Do you want. From my life?" Grimmjow spoke into the toilet._

_Ilforte laughed. "Well, your dad called a little while ago. He didn't sound very pleased. Something about a wedding rehearsal?"_

_Grimmjow's eyes widened before he groaned and submitted to the rolling sickness in his gut. After bringing up a little more of his insides, he coughed and spit a few times, then he slowly inched his head around to face his friend, who was perched on the edge of the sink. "I fuckin' forgot about that shit," he grumbled, resting his temple against the toilet seat._

_"Who the hell is getting married?"_

_"My perfect brother whose shit doesn't stink and who can do no wrong."_

_Ilforte wrinkled his straight nose and frowned. "Someone actually wants to marry that asshole?"_

_"Baffles the mind, doesn't it?" Grimmjow retorted, rolling his eyes._

_"Yes. Yes, it does. Well, anyway. I come bearing good news!" Ilforte exclaimed, rubbing his slender hands together, a devilish twinkle in his dark eyes._

_"Oh, god. Ya know I hate when ya get all cheerful an' shit."_

_"I know, I know, but this is a good thing, for a change."_

_"Fuck're ya talkin' 'bout? Stop beatin' around the bush and say what ya gotta say already. I wanna go home an' get chewed out so I can lay back down," Grimmjow snapped grumpily._

_"Fine, fuckin' sourpuss. Your date from last night left you a gift in your cell phone," Ilforte stated with a pout._

_Grimmjow frowned, confused. What the hell was Ilforte talking about? He wished the blond would just use layman's terms. Grimmjow was too hungover to read between the lines._

_As if reading his mind, Ilforte sucked his teeth and shook his head. "He left you his number, dork."_

_Grimmjow brightened for a few seconds, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before nausea washed over him again, forcing him to turn away from his friend. He did register the fact that Gambit had left him a means to communicate with him and Grimmjow couldn't wait to utilize it._

After his conversation with Ilforte, he'd called for Shawlong and dragged himself home. His old man screamed at him about missing such an important family event, and how was he supposed to be the heir to the Jaegerjaques fortune if he couldn't be responsible enough to make it to his own brother's wedding rehearsal, and blah, blah, fucking blah. Grimmjow had let the older, gray-haired man's rant go in one ear and right out the other. He had still been terribly hungover and had just wanted to lay down, possibly sleeping off the toxins in his body. If anything, he certainly hadn't wanted to stick around and allow his father to drastically worsen his headache.

He remembered lugging himself to his bedroom, where he stripped out of his costume, rinsed the spray on dye from his hair in the shower, then collapsed into bed. He'd slept until early afternoon and when he woke, his thoughts had immediately landed on the auburn-haired teen, Gambit. Grimmjow wondered what the boy's name really was. His wondering had morphed into demanding curiosity, leading him to plug his phone to its charger and send a tentative text to the name stored in his contact list under Gambit.

He wouldn't admit aloud how giddy he'd been when his text had received a prompt reply. After confirming whom he was texting, he'd let Gambit know that he'd definitely had fun with him the night before. Gambit's reply had been brief, but promising so Grimmjow typed in another harmless statement.

_Maybe we can meet up again sometime. Without the costumes..._

He bit his bottom lip, not wanting to acknowledge the sudden flurry of nerves swirling through him as he waited for the other boy's reply.

_Yeah, I was gonna suggest the same_

Grimmjow cracked a huge grin. Really?

_That so? I was gonna ask ur name, but if we're gonna meet up again, wanna wait to exchange names then?_

Grimmjow hoped Gambit would agree. It would lend them something other than sex to look forward to with their next meeting.

_That's cool. Good idea. So how come I've never seen u around b4?_

Grimmjow frowned, completely agreeing. It was kind of strange that they had never seen one another before last night.

_Idk. I think I'd remember a hottie like u ;)_

His face was on fire. He couldn't believe he was behaving like a girl with a crush. It was embarrassing...but fun.

_:) How old are u?_

Grimmjow grinned. That was easy.

  1. _U?_



_Same. What school u go 2?_

Grimmjow rolled onto his back and pressed his head to his pillow. Did Gambit go to the same school as him?

_KHS. U?_

_LoL, this feels like Q &A. Same. That's definitely strange. If we go 2 the same school, we should've bumped into each other b4._

Grimmjow nodded.

_Yeah. Maybe we'll see each other Monday_

_Maybe..._

Grimmjow was really enjoying talking to Gambit, which was different for him. He rarely gave anyone the time of day, but this guy? He was refreshing. Grimmjow suddenly envisioned almond-shaped, sepia brown eyes that twinkled and danced like rhinestones and... Shit. There was something that kept evading him about Gambit's appearance. Another incoming text from Gambit drew him out of his thoughts.

_I hope so :)_

Grimmjow tried to ignore the warm fuzzies taking root in his gut, but it was too hard. He'd worry about what he was missing about Gambit's appearance later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Not one person could touch his high. Ichigo felt like he was walking on a cloud as he passed through the halls of school. Szayel and Renji strode beside him, exchanging amused glances and curious smirks, while Tatsuki and Chado followed behind them silently. Ichigo turned the corner leading to the academic wing of the school and shoved his hands deeply into the pockets of his cream-colored hoodie. His mind was stuck on the text conversation he'd held with Zorro the day before. What had started out as an inquisitive back and forth kind of game, had quickly turned into serious flirting. Ichigo grinned to himself. He felt like he knew so much about the blue-eyed boy, now.

For instance, Zorro had a thing for animals. He hadn't outright stated that fact, but Ichigo had been able to glean the information from the way Zorro had kept referring to his Siamese cat, Sydney, and his Siberian Husky, Rocky. Zorro's favorite food was french fries – lots of ketchup – and his favorite snack was popcorn. He hated anything to do with math, but read everything that he could get his hands on. He couldn't draw for shit, but he dabbled with music and writing. He wanted to be a songwriter, even though he claimed to be unable to carry a tune in a basket, and he was pretty talented with drums and a keyboard. Ichigo grinned again, unaware of the burning blue gaze boring into his head.

"Find somethin' in yer pocket, Kurosaki?" a deep voice snapped at him.

Ichigo blinked out of his happy moment, brow immediately pulling into a scowl as he set his sights on his nemesis. "Maybe."

Grimmjow snorted, but it did nothing to distract Ichigo from the other teen's brilliant blue eyes and shiny, bright blue hair. Wearing a plain white, v-neck tee under a light-green hoodie and light-blue jeans ripped at the knees and around the hems, Grimmjow oozed sex appeal. Ichigo frowned. He wasn't supposed to think about Grimmjow like that anymore, especially since he had Zorro to look forward to meeting up with again. He and Zorro had agreed not to discuss distinguishing appearances or names, even going as far as not talking on the phone. It would give them something to look forward to the next time they met. At first, Ichigo had been against it, but then he'd changed his mind. Although he wanted to see Zorro in school, he would wait. However, it didn't mean he wouldn't visually comb the crowds of students for dark hair and blue eyes.

Ichigo frowned again. It was strange looking at Grimmjow, now. All he kept seeing was Zorro. Grimmjow smirked when Ichigo went silent, the action making Ichigo grind his teeth. What the hell was going on? Something felt very wrong. Ichigo shrugged away the uncomfortable feeling and turned to Szayel, who had eased to his side, a wide "I know, but you don't" smile across his sharp features. It made Ichigo pause briefly before ridding himself of that moment of suspicion as well.

"I need those notes," Ichigo grunted.

Szayel nodded, smile only getting bigger as he glanced back and forth between Ichigo and Grimmjow. Ichigo swallowed forcefully, mind overturning itself. Like he'd thought: there was something very wrong with this situation; he just couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was.

A creepily long silence descended over them and made Ichigo peer at Grimmjow from the corner of his eye. Grimmjow had gone quiet, which wasn't like the brash teen at all. Now, the boy stood staring at Ichigo, those lovely blue orbs narrowed in thought. Deciding it wasn't the time to figure out what was going on, Ichigo narrowed his eyes as well and glared at Grimmjow.

"What?" he snapped.

Grimmjow jerked like someone flicked on a bright light before he covered it with an exaggerated sneer. "What, _what_? Yer lookin' at me."

"'Cuz you're lookin' at me, asshole."

"S'only 'cuz it's so _amazin'_ how ugly ya are."

"You wish. Fuck off, idiot."

Grimmjow's upper lip curled back even more as he stepped closer, bringing his warm body into Ichigo's personal space. " _You_ don't tell _me_ what ta do, Kurosaki."

Ichigo opened his mouth to come back with a really witty retort, only to have his mouth snap shut as he inhaled Grimmjow's scent. Being that close to the other boy had only occurred a few times, and all of them had resulted in fighting that left them both bruised and beaten. It probably would have happened this time had Ichigo _not_ looked up and zeroed in on Grimmjow's angular jaw, straight nose and full lips. Suddenly, images of Zorro leaped to the forefront of his mind. Same angular jaw, same straight nose...same full lips. Same musky and subtle scent.

Eyes wide, Ichigo took a careful step back. He had to think. He needed to be alone. As soon as possible preferably. He glanced around at Szayel, absolutely refusing to meet Grimmjow's scornful eyes. Let the idiot think he'd won this showdown. Ichigo was in the middle of a minor crisis and didn't have time to play with the blue-haired boy.

"Notes," he croaked desperately.

Szayel dug around in his messenger bag, then handed a light-gray notebook over. "They're on the last page I've written on."

Ichigo nodded, tucked the notebook under his arm, and quickly ducked around the next corner. Heart pounding madly, he reached into his back pocket for his cell phone. He was going to text Zorro because he had some questions for the other boy.

XOXOXO

Something didn't feel right. There was a strong pulling sensation going on in his mind and it was getting on his _last fucking nerve_. Had been doing so ever since he'd first spotted Kurosaki that morning at the school's entrance. And to think he'd been in a great mood earlier. Thoughts of the auburn-haired Gambit had had his stomach all wriggly and his heart dancing excitedly. He'd never thought that he would know so much about one person. Hell, he didn't even know everything about Ilforte, and Forte was his best friend. The other members of his entourage didn't count because they had only ever been – and always would be – mere associates. Luppi, Hal and Starrk were cool, but Grimmjow didn't feel as if he could share his true self with them – so he never did.

Luppi had a big mouth, for one thing, Hal was too philosophical and Starrk...well, Starrk just seemed like he never wanted to be bothered. Like he couldn't even gather the energy to listen properly. Grimmjow went back to Gambit. Eyes so alive and the richest brown Grimmjow had ever seen, soft, reddish-brown hair, straight nose, enticing lips, and a long, slender, strong-looking body: Gambit was perfect. He seemed like he was fun to be around, too. Grimmjow found that strange, considering Gambit was the exact opposite of himself. Where Grimmjow hated math, Gambit excelled in it. Where Grimmjow loved reading and writing, Gambit only tolerated it. Gambit was deathly afraid of cats for some strange reason, but if they were going to hang out, Gambit would have to get over that fear. Grimmjow had a cat _and_ a dog. He loved animals – well, most of them, anyway.

Gambit was an outdoors kind of guy as well. He liked hiking and camping and all that crazy shit that Grimmjow never wanted any parts of. His stupid, older brother was into that kind of crap, so he'd made it his business to never be interested in it. He refused to have anything in common – except their parents – with that ass-kissing piece of shit.

Another thing Grimmjow had learned about Gambit was that the boy had a thing for art. And not the normal, traditional kind of art, either. He was into tagging and tattoos. Cartoons and comics. That sort of thing. Grimmjow was anxious to see what kind of stuff the kid could draw, especially since he loved reading manga and comics. Gambit had informed Grimmjow that he owned over two hundred sketchbooks filled with free-handed cartoon characters, graffiti styled lettering and tattoo designs. Since Grimmjow had a few tattoos himself, he was even more intrigued.

Gambit's favorite color was blue – which had made Grimmjow smile wolfishly to himself at the time – and his favorite food was rice. He'd explained to Grimmjow how he could run through six bowls of plain, steamed rice, and Grimmjow had demanded to see it, up close and personal. He didn't believe there was a living soul on Earth that could eat that much plain, boring, white rice.

There was one thing they _did_ have in common, however. They both had an intense love of music. It didn't matter the genre; as long as it sounded good, it was fine. Grimmjow had been almost twitching with excitement during that portion of the text conversation they'd had the whole day and night before. When he'd asked Gambit if he knew what dub step was and the boy had gone on to answer with "Yeah, my fav is Skrillex", he'd almost rolled right off his bed. Most people in their school were either into hard rock or pop, _maybe_ some alternative and occasionally rap or hip hop. There was no middle ground. Before meeting Gambit, Grimmjow'd had no one to talk to about his obsession with dub step and its mechanical beats and pounding bass.

Now, he did.

Gambit also had a thing for the electric guitar. He'd said he'd been trying to learn for some time, but it was harder than it looked. Grimmjow agreed. Most people thought playing the drums was easy, but there was definitely an art to it. A finesse and certain sense of rhythm was required to keep up with that instrument. It wasn't just banging recklessly or randomly on every piece. Grimmjow's brother had made that assumption, insinuating that anyone could knock a couple of sticks around and make a racket. Ignorant asshole.

Back to Gambit. The teen claimed that his pet peeves were sleeping with socks on, and liars. He couldn't tolerate either. He hated doing dishes, but he could "hook up a meal every now and then." Grimmjow could cook, but he wasn't that great at it, either, so he supposed that was another thing he and Gambit had in common.

There was so much that he knew about the sexy Gambit and he really couldn't wait to see him again. In fact, he'd been searching the hallways of school, trying to ignore that thorn in his side named Kurosaki. That flaming orange head had been visible all day and all it did was annoy Grimmjow. He had a new focus. But then, he'd run into Kurosaki in the hall coming from the academic wing, and things had...changed.

Yes, there were some things that Grimmjow wasn't remembering about Gambit. For instance, Gambit had a distinguishing something that Grimmjow just couldn't put his finger on. It was like having a word or name right at the tip of your tongue: frustrating as hell. All Grimmjow remembered clearly was wind-tossed, auburn hair, shining, brown eyes, a straight nose, cavernous dimples, and lips that were made specifically for kissing. And that perfect body, of course. Other than that, things were pretty much a blur.

Looking at Kurosaki had made his stomach roll unpleasantly. Kurosaki's eyes were the same shade as Gambit's. In fact, that smile...those dimples. Those lips. Grimmjow had felt his eyes narrow involuntarily as he'd studied Kurosaki. There was something he was missing and he really didn't like the way the Grantz twin, Szayel, had been looking at him and Kurosaki. Like a kid with a secret. Strangely, the same expression of confusion and suspicion had crossed Kurosaki's face before the orange-haired teen had turned to Szayel and asked him for notes or something. Grimmjow had been more focused on the boy's long legs fit snugly into a pair of black skinny jeans. Those long, almost elegant fingers that screamed artist.

And then, as if a light bulb had gone on over his head, his eyes locked onto the glinting stud resting on Kurosaki's right nostril. It was like his mind had ferociously kicked away the fog that had been hanging over it, revealing Gambit's face in shocking detail. Perhaps the way he'd seen it before Grimmjow had been drunk off his ass and just looking to fuck. And there it was, clear as day and big as the sun itself. Gambit had had a matching nose ring. Grimmjow remembered seeing it when the boy had passed through the dance floor, heading for the make-shift bar.

His stomach pitched around like a seizing animal, his heart going absolutely wild. There was no way. Kurosaki had disappeared around a corner of the hall just a moment ago, leaving Grimmjow alone with Szayel and his other friends, the red-head, Abarai something or other, the dark-haired girl that everyone knew was gay with no compunctions about it (Grimmjow didn't know her name), and the quiet giant, Yasutora. Grimmjow felt like he was lost at sea with no flotation device. Kurosaki's friends were gaping at him, blinking dumbly – or maybe that's just the way it looked to Grimmjow at the moment.

Before he could restore his brain, his phone went off in his pocket, making him jump like a frightened animal. He fumbled with it before retrieving it and lifting it to his ear. He'd been so distracted, he didn't even realize that it wasn't an incoming call, but instead an incoming text message. Hand shaking and heart thudding harshly, he snatched the phone away from his ear and glanced around surreptitiously. Kurosaki's friends were eyeing him warily, but Szayel wore an impish grin that spoke volumes.

Grimmjow hurried away from the small group, rounding a corner and dipping into an empty classroom. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, eyes squeezed shut. He couldn't calm down. Had he _really_ had drunk – but very enjoyable – sex with...Kurosaki? What the fuck kind of a joke was that? Grimmjow glanced down at the screen of his cell and sucked in a breath. Speak of the devil. Well, sort of.

_Incoming Text: Gambit_

_I think we should meet. Tonight._

Grimmjow closed his eyes, hand clasping over the phone in a tight fist, and head falling back against the door. That would be the best route for him and Gambit to take. If Gambit was _indeed_ Kurosaki, then at least Grimmjow would know and be able to leave the other teen alone before things went too far between them. On second thought, things had already gone as far as they could go, hadn't they? He and Gambit had had sex. Granted, they had both been extremely drunk, but...they'd had intercourse nonetheless. Couldn't deny that. On top of that, he and Gambit had gotten to know one another through those text messages.

Grimmjow face-palmed helplessly, his forehead creased into a confused scowl. What the fuck was he going to do if Gambit _did_ turn out to be Kurosaki? He'd gone and started liking the guy; it would be a disaster of epic proportions if Gambit turned out to be the one boy he couldn't have. Wasn't allowed to have.

After rubbing his hand over his face, Grimmjow opened his eyes and glanced down at his phone again, Gambit's message still lighting up the screen. Slowly, carefully, he replied.

_Yeah, I think that'll work. How 'bout the Skyline?_

He hit send and waited, heart still thrashing around like an elephant in a cage. Not even thirty seconds later, another text came through.

_Eight?_

Grimmjow nodded, even though he knew he couldn't be seen, then hastily typed in an affirmative answer. After that, the only thing Gambit said was OK. Grimmjow swallowed forcefully several times in a row, his limbs quaking and blood freezing in his veins. How unfair would it be if the boy he'd been so excited about, turned out to be the very person his family refused to let him be friendly with, let alone date? Jaw twitching, he finally gathered the nerve and strength to leave the deserted classroom and head for his homeroom. The bell had already rung while he'd been having his minor meltdown, and he was really late.

 _But none of that matters_ , he thought as he trudged through the halls. _Did I have sex with my enemy?_

XOXOXO

Szayel studied his friend from across the lunch table. Ichigo had his head buried in his food tray as if his life depended on how intensely he could concentrate on the piece of plastic. Szayel shook his head, amused and sympathetic all at the same time. He couldn't blame Ichigo for looking the way he did. In fact, had Ichigo not begun behaving strangely after running into Grimmjow for the first time after their night of debauchery, Szayel would have thought the boy had lost his mind. However, Ichigo had indeed noticed something. What it had been, Ichigo was neglecting to tell Szayel, but Szayel had a mind to pry it from the stubborn, orange-haired teen. Actually...

"Ichigo," he stated calmly. He hadn't even raised his voice, yet Ichigo's head came up from his tray as if someone had yanked his hair from behind.

"Wha?"

Szayel grimaced, disgusted. Sometimes, Ichigo just had no manners. "You have food in your mouth, you know."

"And?"

"Chew, swallow, speak. In that order, if you please."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, but made sure to get rid of the wad of food in his mouth before wiping the corners and tilting his head to the side in question. Those deep brown eyes were full of boredom, but underneath that brave facade was a healthy serving of fear. Wild fear. Animal-like fear. The kind of fear one feels when trapped in a corner and faced with a predator. Ichigo looked like a caveman protecting his food, the way he was hunched over his tray and staring crazily at Szayel.

Szayel cleared his throat, somewhat disturbed by the amount of trepidation in his friend's gaze. "I wanted to ask you what your problem was earlier. You ran off like you saw a ghost."

Ichigo visibly swallowed, the movement exaggerated and almost comical. His eyes went back to his tray before he lifted them again and locked onto Szayel's face. "Szayel. What did I do the other night?"

"What are you talking about? I thought that was obvious."

"No." Ichigo took a deep breath and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "You know who Zorro is, don't you?" he went on quietly.

Szayel shrugged, then smirked. Of course he knew. Didn't mean he was going to tell Ichigo, though. "Possibly."

Ichigo's fist came down on the table top and upset his tray, the loud bang quieting the cafeteria all around. "Dammit, Szayel! If you fuckin' know, tell me! I...I. I need to _know_."

The lunch room could have been a cemetery, it was so silent. No one moved, no one even seemed to breathe. Szayel on the other hand was having a severely hard time not laughing in his friend's face. Ichigo seemed so distraught. And for no reason, at that. Szayel had never understood the logic of Ichigo's and Grimmjow's families. Hating each other because they were in competition in the corporate world. Ruining the lives of their children, and for what? Szayel shook his head, fed up with the whole situation.

"I will _not_ ," he stressed, pinning Ichigo with his most no-nonsense glare. "You made your bed, now you lay in it. Why don't you ask Zorro who he is?" he ended, lowering his voice, so no one at the other tables around them could hear.

"Szayel, _please_?" Ichigo begged.

Szayel sucked his teeth and looked away. Normally, he would have fallen victim to Ichigo's puppy-dog eyes, but it wasn't working this time around. He and Ilforte knew for a fact that Grimmjow and Ichigo would be good together. To hell with their families' rules and restrictions, as stupid as they were.

"You're really not gonna tell me?" Ichigo asked incredulously, brown eyes wide.

Szayel finally turned back to face him and nodded stiffly. "There is no reason for the panic I see in you, Ichigo. Why are you losing it?"

Ichigo shook his head quickly, then sighed forcefully. "You don' know what I saw today."

"Hn."

"What was that?"

"I know and see more than you think. Why don't you tell me what you saw today?"

Ichigo's shoulders slumped as he sat back in his seat. Before he began talking, though, he glanced over his shoulder at Grimmjow, who was seated in his normal seat, at his normal table behind Ichigo. Unfortunately for Ichigo, the blue-haired teen had been watching him carefully, startlingly blue eyes once again narrowed in thought. Szayel stifled a smug grin as he watched Ichigo whirl around like a kid caught red-handed. Ichigo's face was beet red, covering his freckles and clashing horribly with his bright hair.

"Tell me," Szayel insisted.

"I think...I think Grimmjow m-might be Zorro," he said so softly, Szayel had to strain to hear him.

But he did.

"Is that so?" he asked offhandedly. "And what if he was? What then?"

Ichigo's eyes went wild again, wide and absolutely feral. "What _the fuck_ do you mean? That's like _sacrilege_ , Szayel! You _know_ that! You _know_ how my dad and granddad are!"

"And?" Ichigo's mouth fell open as he fought to find an answer. All he ended up with was a very unmanly squeak. "Why should your happiness be less important than your family's business?"

Silence.

Ichigo sat, his face looking like he'd swallowed a spoon. As if putting himself before his family's selfishness was an idea he'd never thought of.

"Ichigo-"

"What makes you think I'll be happy with him? Just saying if it _is_ Grimmjow."

"Do you like Zorro?" Szayel asked quietly. Ichigo's mouth just snapped shut as he stared. "I thought so. So, if Grimmjow _is_ Zorro, what makes the difference? This petty school rivalry that you have going? Because I can see through all that, right to the sexual tension between you two."

"...So...are you tellin' me that Grimmjow really is Zorro?" Ichigo asked almost timidly.

Szayel huffed and sat back in his own seat before crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not telling you anything except to have an open mind, Ichigo. The rest is up to you."

Ichigo stared for a few more beats, then nodded dejectedly. "Fine."

Szayel watched his friend climb to his feet, grab his lunch tray, and head for the garbage can near the cafeteria doors. Without a look back, Ichigo disappeared behind the dark-blue metal. Szayel looked over at Grimmjow's table and locked eyes with his brother, Ilforte. Ilforte shook his head and tilted it in Grimmjow's direction. When Szayel focused on the other teen, he realized that Grimmjow had been watching Ichigo leave the cafeteria. His hands were clutched into tight fists, one wrapped around a bent spork, the other around an empty carton of juice.

Szayel honestly would feel bad for them if they didn't manage to straighten up their acts soon. It was obvious they liked each other – even before the Halloween party – and it would be such a waste to watch a lovely romance such as theirs go down the drain. Szayel gave a secretive grin. Ilforte wasn't the _only_ romantic Grantz.

XOXOXO

Ichigo paced. And then he paced some more. And then he paced some more after that. He was at the place he and Zorro had agreed to meet. Only thing was, due to the absence of Karakura's usual traffic, he'd arrived a half hour early. It was good to be punctual, but this just made him seem overly eager. Perhaps even desperate.

Fuck it.

He was.

He needed to know if his mind was playing tricks on him. If maybe he was just imagining the fact that Grimmjow resembled Zorro – minus the bright blue hair. But hell, that didn't even count! Grimmjow could have easily dyed his hair the same way Ichigo had dyed his own hair for the party. Now what? Every excuse he came up with, his mind kicked it away like it was garbage.

Ichigo paced the patio in the back of the fairly popular restaurant, Skyline. It specialized in seafood, but had an immensely laid-back atmosphere. It would have been relaxing had Ichigo not been about to lose everything he'd eaten that day due to nerves. His stomach was violent and so was his heart. He felt like any moment and he would erupt, his body parts landing all over the patio and yard beyond. Ichigo stole a peek at his phone. Zorro had sent him a text about an hour ago, asking him if they were still on to meet. Ichigo had agreed, of course. Now, he was forced to wait. Impatiently, might he add.

 _The crowd inside the restaurant is pretty noisy for a Monday evening_ , he thought as he glanced over his shoulder. Waiters and waitresses dressed in black slacks and white polo shirts hustled around the restaurant toting trays full of food and drinks. The place was packed, filled with people engaging in mindless, stress-free chatter. Ichigo wished he could do the same. He wished he wasn't so fucking harassed. His armpits were sweaty, his hands clammy, his throat dry, and upper lip and brow perspiring as well. In other words, he was a wreck.

Suddenly, his phone went crazy in his hand, belting the lyrics to Keri Hilson's "Lose Control." He jumped hard, then gathered himself as he took a look at the screen.

_Incoming Text: Zorro_

_I'm here. Where r u?_

Ichigo almost shivered to the floor, his bones abruptly losing all signs of life. His knees almost buckled and his chest caved in on him. Nerves shot, he swiveled his head around wildly, searching the inside of the restaurant for dark hair, blue hair, _anything_. Zorro hadn't given him any clues as to what he'd be wearing, so that was yet _another_ thing that _wasn't_ helping Ichigo's case. Ichigo himself had told Zorro to look for a brown hoodie and dark jeans. Maybe that would help Zorro spot him faster. Deciding to help, Ichigo typed in a quick reply.

_In the back._

Zorro didn't respond, but Ichigo hadn't expected him to. It was all a matter of waiting now. He was afraid to face the door now. Afraid to see who would walk through. Afraid to face the truth that he knew deep down inside. There was no one else in KHS with eyes like Zorro's. Or Grimmjow's for that matter. No one else with that beautifully sculpted face and jaw. Those lips. Ichigo shuddered, then shook his head as he turned away from the patio door. There were other patrons out back with him, some smoking, others talking and enjoying the unusually balmy Autumn air. Ichigo had his hood pulled over his head, hiding his tell-tale tresses. Call him a coward, but he didn't want to give himself away on sight.

The patio door opened, the bell hanging over the door chiming innocently, but making Ichigo feel on the verge of a heart attack. Any minute now and he'd keel over from high blood pressure. He leaned over the railing, unknowingly giving himself away anyway, but he needed something to rest his trembling body against. There was a short pause before he felt a large hand on his shoulder. However, before he could even turn around, a familiar deep voice floated from behind.

"I know tha's you, Kurosaki. Er should I call ya Gambit?"

XOXOXO

Grimmjow gripped the steering wheel of his car and ground his teeth together. There was no more doubt left in his mind. After watching Kurosaki argue with Szayel during lunch, Grimmjow had figured out that the orange-haired teen was indeed Gambit. Kurosaki's voice taunted him, mocked him. That lithe body sauntering from the cafeteria earlier had been like a nail to the temple. The way Kurosaki moved, the way he smiled, the way he smelled. God, how the fuck had he been so stupid?

Grimmjow growled and swung into the parking lot of Skyline, a famous seafood restaurant. After shutting the engine to his all black BMW, he sat in the front seat collecting himself, jaw twitching the entire time. A few deep breaths later, he was able to climb from the vehicle, slam the door shut and hit the alarm. He took in the rest of the parking lot, eyes devouring the other cars. A tension headache bloomed in his temples as soon as he spotted Kurosaki's silver Audi parked on the other side. Shaking his head in disgust, he made his way into the restaurant.

How had he been so careless? Fuck what Forte had been telling him earlier about chances and shit. None of that made sense. How the hell hadn't he realized that he'd been fucking his enemy? His nemesis. His arch rival. Had he really been that drunk? If so, no more alcohol for him. He couldn't afford to make mistakes like that again. What made the whole situation a fuck-all had to be the fact that he'd gotten to know Gambit – or Kurosaki rather. And he _liked_ what he found. He _really_ liked what he found.

Grimmjow sucked his teeth and strode to the entrance of the crowded restaurant. Gambit – no Kurosaki – had told him to look for a brown hoodie and dark jeans, but that didn't exactly give Grimmjow an exact location. He wasn't in the mood to search for Kurosaki in this mess. Hell, he just wanted to get the confrontation over and done with, so he could go home and forget about the entire sordid affair.

Shit. He couldn't believe he'd fucked Kurosaki.

As badly as he'd wanted to, it had only ever been a fantasy. Not something he thought would ever happen. If his father or grandfather found out that he'd been consorting with the enemy, he'd be dead meat. Fish paste. Toast. Sleeping at the bottom of the Karakura River.

Fuck.

Grimmjow rubbed a hand through his hair restlessly as he used the other to grab his phone and text Kurosaki. Where the fuck was the idiot hiding? After waiting a few beats, he received an answer. _In the back._ Grimmjow sighed. He supposed it was a good thing that Kurosaki hadn't gotten a seat inside the restaurant. That would have been a bit too much like a date for Grimmjow's taste. He bustled past waiters and flirting waitresses. They didn't seem to mind being jostled by him, but little did they know, he was so far from interested, it was hilarious.

Finally, he stepped past the last of the tables and pushed open the door to the back patio. He immediately spotted Kurosaki, who was leaning against the wooden railing nonchalantly, his back turned and hood thrown over his unmistakable hair. Grimmjow shook his head and sucked his teeth again. He found himself doing that a lot today and it was all because he'd lost his fucking mind, having sex with the only teen that was off limits to him.

He stomped over to Kurosaki and put a hand on his shoulder. Once he did, he realized just how wrong he'd been about the nonchalant thing. From the tension in Kurosaki's shoulder, the teen was anything but.

Grimmjow didn't even give Ichigo a chance to turn around and face him before he said, "I know tha's you, Kurosaki. Er should I call ya Gambit?"

The stiffness in Kurosaki's shoulder grew worse as the boy froze. Then, Grimmjow heard him expel a deep breath. "Fuck," Kurosaki whispered in resignation.

Grimmjow felt the same exact way. Kurosaki turned and threw back his hood, sable brown eyes a mixture of disappointment, anger and confusion. Grimmjow was positive his own eyes held the same emotions. Gritting his teeth, Grimmjow averted his gaze and clenched his hands into fists.

"Dammit," he growled.

What should he say now? He'd had _sex_...with _Kurosaki_. Really _good_ , really _drunk_ sex. What to do from here? He was clueless. He was so distracted and caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't realize Kurosaki had spoken until the boy glared at him expectantly.

"What?" Grimmjow grunted.

"I said why'd it have to be _you_?" Kurosaki snapped.

"I could say the same thing ta you, Kurosaki."

Kurosaki ran a hand through his hair, sending it in every other direction before cursing under his breath again. "This is _so_ fucked up," he muttered, scowl deep and seemingly etched in stone. Grimmjow glanced at him again and sighed. He couldn't agree more. Shit, if anyone even saw them standing together right now, they'd both probably be disowned or punished severely. Their families were _that_ strict, _that_ insane. It wasn't fair. "What now?" Kurosaki continued.

When Grimmjow looked at him this time, Kurosaki's eyes were confused, but defiant. What the hell was the guy thinking? Grimmjow shrugged his shoulders and felt a vein throb at his temple. "Why ya askin' me?"

"I thought you might have had somethin' in mind."

"Look, Kurosaki. I'm just as fucked up over this as you are. I don' know what to do about this shit."

Kurosaki's face turned pink, then deepened to maroon. "You like me, though."

Grimmjow's eyes went wide as he stared at Kurosaki. Like hell he was getting put on the spot. "SO? YOU LIKE ME, TOO!" he shouted.

Amazingly, Kurosaki didn't lash out at him for yelling. Instead, the orange-haired little shit burst into laughter. _Oh man. Kurosaki and those dimples. That voice._ Grimmjow took a deep breath and looked away. He didn't know what to do, so he toyed with his fingers and wrung his hands, alternating between the two. Why the fuck had Kurosaki laughed like that? Why wasn't he pissed? Why wasn't he upset like Grimmjow was?

Then, Kurosaki sobered, those sienna eyes studying Grimmjow way too carefully. _What now?_ "We can't do that again, though. This ends here, right?" he asked, voice _way_ uncertain.

Grimmjow took a moment to deliberate, then nodded slowly. "I think tha's a good idea. Yer family, my family. It jus' wouldn' work," he mumbled.

Kurosaki's face fell briefly before it was back to normal and his back was straight. "I think so, too."

Silence. They stood rooted to the spot for what seemed like forever before Kurosaki shrugged and started for the patio door.

"Guess I'll see ya around," he said.

Grimmjow watched him go, chest hurting and stomach having a riot. "Yeah."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

"Come in!" Grimmjow shouted at his bedroom door as he reclined on the bed.

The door slowly opened, making him lift his head and peer at his visitor. Once he got a good look at the blue-haired man standing there, he quickly sat up and put down the book he'd been immersed in. An immediate sneer graced his lips as the man stepped into his room and shut the door behind himself.

"Being lazy as usual, I see."

"Fuck off, Eric," he growled in return.

"Tsk, tsk. Still as uncouth as ever. It's no wonder Father wants nothing to do with you."

"Excuse me for not lickin' his balls the way you have a habit a'doin'."

That statement drew the reaction Grimmjow had been expecting. No one but their father thought that Eric Jaegerjaques was perfect. Especially since the guy was anything but. The older man was scum as far as he was concerned. There was certainly no love lost between the two. Eric wanted the old man's position, while Grimmjow wanted nothing to do with it. However, there was no persuading Eric that his younger brother didn't have eyes for the throne. It was the cause of many a fight between them, but Grimmjow was used to it by now.

"Listen, you little shit!" Eric hissed, gray eyes glinting like marble. "I don't know what you're up to, but when I figure it out, you'll be miserable!"

Grimmjow frowned in confusion. Normally, he was able to follow his older brother's anger; this time, he was just lost. "What the fuck're you talkin' about?"

"What the hell were you thinking, skipping the wedding rehearsal? Do you have _any_ idea what I had to go through to calm Father down? What the fuck were you up to? Getting drunk with your little friends again?"

Shaking his head, Grimmjow retrieved his book and looked away. "As a matter of fact, I was. I don' give a shit about yer fuckin' weddin'."

"You piece of-"

A knock at the door kept Eric from crossing the room and engaging him in another of their many fist fights. As it were, his brother had his lips peeled back from his teeth in a gruesome snarl, fists clenched tightly at his sides and nostrils flared wide. After a few seconds of nothing but harsh breathing coming from the guy, Eric turned to the door, eyes still wild as he obviously tried to rein in his anger.

"Who is it?" Grimmjow called cautiously.

The door opened without an answer, but when he saw who the person was, he relaxed. At first he'd been afraid that it was his father; instead, his cousin stepped into the room, long, flowing, sea-green hair trailing over her shoulders. She was smiling brightly like she always did, but once she spotted Eric, the smile abruptly faded.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have some ass kissing to do?" she asked.

Eric snorted and tossed his shoulder-length, blue hair. "Well, if it isn't the young harlot of the family."

"As if, idiot. You're just mad we're related, so you can't get any."

"Oh, sure that makes sense, considering I have a beautiful fiance."

"You mean that gold-digging slut, Cirucci? Good job, Eric. Nice catch," Nel said with a soft chortle as she sauntered over to Grimmjow's bed, no longer paying heed to the seething man.

"Watch your mouth! I know what you've been up to Neliel, so I'd tread carefully if I were you."

Grimmjow had had enough. Eric always used that same line whenever Nel cornered him and, frankly, he was tired of hearing it.

"Pick on someone your own size," he growled, sliding from the bed.

Eric arched a fine blue brow and scoffed. "Do you refer to yourself, dearest little brother? I accept that challenge."

"Grimm, it's not that serious. I don't pay him any mind, so neither should you. He's just miserable because no one likes him." With that, Nel turned to Eric, giving him her full, wheat gray gaze. "Why don't you go follow your daddy around?"

His brother started towards the bed where Nel was sitting, but Grimmjow edged around it and stood in front of her, back bristling and teeth bared.

"I dare you," he snarled.

Eric paused and his evil expression melted into a haughty sneer. "Really?"

Grimmjow didn't move, but he felt the subtle way Nel touched his elbow. It was her way of telling him that another fight with his moronic older brother was unnecessary, not to mention would backfire like hell. If Grimmjow fought Eric right now, Father would make it seem like everything was _his_ fault.

"Just get out."

"And if I don't?"

"I don' have any problems _makin'_ you."

Eric clenched his fists together again, teeth making an appearance once more. "Your mouth will be the end of you one day."

"Yeah, well, 'til then, I'm gonna keep runnin' it. Don' like it? Means fuck all to me."

Nel giggled, the back of her hand covering her mouth. Grimmjow, however, kept his eyes rooted to the menacing sight of his older brother. Eric didn't seem to be in a rational state of mind at the moment, which was fine and dandy. As long as the prick left his room.

"We'll see," Eric growled as he snatched open the bedroom door, only to slam it shut behind himself.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes and faced Nel with an exasperated expression. "I hate that asshole," he muttered.

Nel nodded. "I can see why. He's such a bastard."

"Yeah, well, we knew that part already. What're you doin' here anyway?"

"Oh!" Nel exclaimed, heart-shaped face brightening almost instantly. "I heard _you_ – my favorite, bestest cousin ever – have found a new boyfriend. Is that true?"

He felt his eyes widen before he could stop them. "Who told you that?"

"Ohhhh, that's a secret." Nel paused, studying his face, then gasped dramatically. "It _is_ true! Dish! Now! I want details!" she screeched, throwing herself back onto his bed.

He sighed and lowered himself beside her again, this time running an agitated hand through his wild blue hair. Who the hell had told Nel something like that? Furthermore, what exactly had been said? Grimmjow glanced over at his cousin and grunted. He hated when Nel got that look in her eye. It was like coming eye to eye with a hungry wolf. He also knew there was no way the nosy girl would leave his room without dragging every little bit of information she could glean from him.

Wearily, he sighed and lowered his eyes to his bare feet. "I don't have a boyfriend."

It seemed like Nel had been holding her breath because she stared at him for a few beats before exhaling forcefully. "What...the...hell? Talk about a buzz kill! Grimm, that was _so_ anticlimactic. You can't _possibly_ expect me to believe there's not more to that story."

"Well, it's the truth. I don' know where yer getting' yer info from, but ya might wanna check yer sources."

"Oh, bullshit, Cousin. Where there's smoke, there's fire. Now spill before I force it from you," she said sternly, huge eyes glinting devilishly.

"Nel, there's nothing to tell!"

"Liar. I see you wanna play hard ball. That's fine."

Her voice had deepened with her last statement and her body started slithering towards him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. Her fingers were crooked and her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth. Grimmjow jumped to his feet and danced over to his dresser.

"Alright, alright, alright!" he snapped, hands held up in surrender. "I really don't have a boyfriend, but...well, I did have a fling...sort of."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? _Did you have sex?_ " she hissed conspiratorially.

He rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth. "Why are you so fuckin' dramatic?"

"'Tis my nature," she drawled sarcastically. "Now, are you going to stop beating the bush to death and just tell me what the hell happened?"

"No. Yer gonna get out."

"Ahahaha! You know better than that! Now, who's the guy? Is he cute?"

"Nel," he growled in warning.

"Is he... _big_?"

"Oh God."

Nel cracked up, doubling over on the bed, while Grimmjow turned away from the sight and stalked over to the adjoining bathroom. As he stood in front of the sink, he splashed cold water over his face, his heart strangely beginning to race. Thinking about Kurosaki had been taboo since he'd confirmed the teen's identity as Gambit. What a mind-fuck that had been. And still was to be truthful. It wasn't the fact that Kurosaki had turned out to be Gambit – although that played a big part of it; it was the fact that he'd allowed himself to _like_ the guy, believing he was someone else. It was annoying and frustrating. Shit, he found himself wanting to punch things a lot more often lately. Mainly Kurosaki. It was completely irrational, but it was how he felt. He wanted to take all his anger towards the stupid situation out on the orange-haired boy so badly.

He left the bathroom, another disturbing thought clinging to his brain. When he entered his bedroom, Nel was still lounging on the bed, the book he'd been reading in her hands. She looked up when he stepped from the lavish restroom, a confused scowl marring her brow.

"What the hell is this that you're reading?" she asked.

"I think the title's there already. Plus, there's this handy thing called a synopsis on the back."

"Smart ass."

"Well, you asked."

"What's it about?"

"Find out yourself."

Nel huffed and tossed the book down. "Whatever. I'd rather get back to what we were talking about earlier. You know, the topic you were studiously avoiding?"

"I don' wanna talk about it."

"That's too bad. Who's the guy? And did you have this fling at the Grantz's Halloween party?"

His mouth threatened to fall open in shock. Where had she heard that? And did she already know who he'd had sex with? If so, it was more than likely the news would get back to his father and _that_ was unacceptable. If his father knew about what he'd done with Kurosaki... He shivered just thinking about it.

"It doesn't matter 'cuz it ain't happening again. OK? So stop askin' about it."

" _That's_ rich. This guy must be a big deal if _you_ don't wanna talk about him. You're always bragging about the dudes you do."

"Nel, just leave it," he growled as he took a seat at his computer desk.

His cell phone rested beside the PC's mouse, the screen dark, but a green light was blinking, indicating he had a message or a missed call. He picked it up and activated it, peering at it curiously. Maybe it was Ilforte.

_Are you busy?_

Grimmjow froze as he slowly registered the sender. He still had the guy saved as "Gambit", but there was no denying who had just sent him a text message. His hands started shaking of their own accord, heart jumping into his throat. What was he supposed to do now? He glanced over his shoulder at his cousin, who was still watching him carefully, elegantly arched green brows raised towards the ceiling. He whipped around and slid the phone into his lap as discreetly as he could. Fingers trembling uncontrollably, he tapped the screen and entered a reply.

_Why?_

He sent it off and waited with bated breath. What the fuck was Kurosaki contacting him for? They'd both agreed that forgetting about their one-night stand was for the best, so what gave? Not even ten seconds later, the phone buzzed in his hand.

_I need 2 talk 2 u._

Grimmjow shook his head immediately. _No way,_ he thought, panicking. They couldn't see each other now. It was bad enough he still liked the guy, but it would be infinitely worse if they saw each other again – aside from passing each other in the halls at school, which was hard enough – let alone spoke to each other.

A week had passed since they'd discovered one another's identities, and every time he'd passed Kurosaki in school, he'd avoided eye contact as much as possible. He'd been afraid that he would snap at the teen, or worse, hit him. But worst of all, he'd thought he'd slip up and do something to give away their secret. Kurosaki was still gorgeous, still as beautiful as ever, and the added remembrance of those soft lips and that toned body was enough to send Grimmjow into twitching fits of lust and desire. He couldn't help that his body wanted more of the boy, but his mind managed to keep him out of trouble. So far, it'd been working, even though he'd spotted Kurosaki giving him equally lusty glances as they passed each other.

Grimmjow swallowed harshly and tapped a response.

_Not a good idea_

What the hell was on Kurosaki's mind?

Warmth at his back alerted him to his cousin's presence, making him whirl in his seat and give her the meanest glare he could muster.

"What the hell're ya doin'?" he snapped.

Nel pulled back and held her hands up in a peaceful gesture. "I was just curious. I mean, you went all quiet and nervous over here, so I had to find out what was going on. Is that the fling that's not going to happen again? And is his name _really_ Gambit?"

"God! Nosy woman!"

Nel cackled shortly before flipping a curtain of sea-green hair over her shoulder. "You say that like you didn't know that already."

"That's beside the point, Nel. This is kinda private."

"Mm, I gathered that much. I'll sit down...for now."

Grimmjow growled under his breath, mouth already forming a come back when his phone went off again. He stared coldly at his cousin as she grinned and sauntered back to the bed, taking her time to put her feet up and get comfortable. It was clear that she had no intention of moving. Shaking his head, he gave his attention back to his cell.

_R u scared?_

Lips pulling into a rabid snarl, Grimmjow automatically typed an answer to Kurosaki's taunt.

_Fuck u_

As he sat back and waited for the inevitable explosion, he allowed a small smile to tug the corners of his mouth upwards. _Take that, asshole._

XOXOXO

"Onii-chan!"

Ichigo jumped sharply at the sound of his younger sister's voice. She had to be standing right outside of his room, but if she'd called him before, he hadn't heard her. He'd been too engrossed in his cell and the interesting conversation he'd been having with none other than Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Not that it was much of a conversation; it was more of a "my dick is bigger than yours" kind of confrontation. Via text message, of course.

He'd been bored and tired of watching his endless collection of anime, tired of piddling around with a few sketches, and tired of lounging in the bed. So, with nothing better to do, he'd sent the taller, blue-haired teen a text message. Honestly, he hadn't even expected a response after the way they'd parted a week ago, but when Grimmjow had replied, it had made a mischievous grin bloom across his features. Ichigo wished he could see the guy's face, gauge his reaction in person, but he'd settle for over the phone for now. It was all he had at the moment, and it made teasing the other boy a lot easier. He really didn't understand why he couldn't stop thinking about Grimmjow; it wasn't like the guy was _that_ special.

Almost immediately he scoffed and rubbed a hand through his hair. Who the hell was he kidding? He'd learned to really like the boy underneath the hardened facade, even if he'd believed he was someone else in the beginning. That night at Skyline had been more than an eye-opener. It had only served to propel all the feelings he'd been hiding towards Grimmjow to the forefront. Now, he felt stuck. Paralyzed. Immobile. It was too late to ignore what had happened between them, too late to forget about all the informative text messages and animal-like attraction.

Fucking hell.

"Onii-chan! Dinner! Are you coming?"

Ichigo twisted his upper body towards the door of his room. "Yeah!" he called. "I'll be down in a sec!"

"OK!"

As he turned around, his phone went off on his desk again. Smiling, he lifted the device and peered at the message.

_Fuck u_

"Bahahaha!"

Grimmjow never failed him when it came to lacking in witty retorts. However, the guy cussed like a sailor on leave and refused to show an ounce of remorse or surrender. It was what Ichigo liked about him, not to mention everything else he'd learned about the boy. He could just imagine those full lips turned up into a fantastic sneer, those bright blue brows creased with anger. Ichigo snorted and entered his own response.

_U did that already. Remember?_

If that wouldn't get to the idiot, then nothing would. He tapped his foot and chewed his thumbnail as he impatiently waited for Grimmjow to reply. Was the behemoth red in the face as he tried unsuccessfully to come up with something to say? Were his large hands clenched into fists?

Possibly.

Definitely.

Ichigo jumped when the phone went off again, but this time his eyes went wide as he stared open-mouthed at the screen. What was Grimmjow doing? Warily, he connected the incoming call and lifted the device to his ear.

"Hello?" he answered, glad that his voice wasn't shaking.

"What the fuck, asshole?" Grimmjow's deep, gravelly baritone snarled over the line.

Ichigo couldn't tuck away his laughter. "Haha! What's the problem, Grimmjow? Can't stand the heat?"

"Why are you buggin' me?"

"Is that what you think?"

There was a brief silence before Grimmjow huffed in annoyance. "Yer a pain in the ass."

"Uh, no, I think that was you."

"Stop it!"

Ichigo cracked up, resting his head against the edge of his desk. This was too much fun. If he'd known it would be this entertaining to tease the blue-haired cretin, he would have done it a long time ago.

"Stop what, exactly?" he continued, feigning innocence.

"What the hell d'you want, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo shrugged, even though he knew Grimmjow couldn't see him. "I don't know. I was bored."

"The hell? Why don't you draw something, then?"

He paused, a warm feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. It made his lips tingle. Grimmjow's suggestion had only been more proof that he was truly Zorro, the boy Ichigo had told intimate detail after intimate detail about himself.

"I-I did for a while, but that got boring too."

"Where's yer little cronies?"

"Ha! Who, Szayel? He's out shopping."

"Eh? Pinky shops?"

"Yeah, surprising, I know."

The following bit of silence made Ichigo shift uneasily in his seat. What was Grimmjow thinking? Was he still mad? That last segment of their conversation had seemed almost...normal.

The other boy cleared his throat and Ichigo could hear the nervousness in the action. "So, is that the only reason you sent me a text?"

He frowned, unsure of what he should say. It almost appeared as if Grimmjow wanted his answer to be otherwise. "Um...yeah, I guess."

The boy grunted. "Oh."

Ichigo instantly felt bad. Why? He had no clue. But there was something in the other teen's voice that made his chest tighten and his stomach do funny little somersaults. "Why?" he asked.

"Nothin'. Look, I gotta go. Stop buggin' me, yeah? If yer bored, get a pet."

With that, Grimmjow ended the connection, but it left a bad taste in Ichigo's mouth. He felt like he'd done something wrong, but couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. He set his phone on the desk and stared down at his hands. Something strange was going on and he was going to find out what it was.

After dinner.

He stood, stalked across his room and snatched the door open, headed for the kitchen and the tantalizing smells coming from it. Although they had chefs galore, his little sister, Yuzu, insisted on cooking for the family every night and if the old man didn't make it to one, the younger brunet would sulk. It pissed Ichigo off when their father put business over family – which was most of the time – but mostly when the guy disregarded Yuzu's feelings. It was easier dealing with Karin, who didn't care either way what their father did. It was strange, though, considering she was Yuzu's twin. One would think they would have similar reactions.

Ichigo trooped down the large, winding staircase and cut to the left, entering the spacious, not to mention luxurious kitchen. As soon as he stepped inside, his bare feet padding over the polished marble floor, he set eyes on his dark-haired sire. The man still wore his office attire consisting of a crisp navy blazer, white dress shirt, and matching navy tie and slacks. There must have been something eating at the man because his jaw sported a scruffy five o'clock shadow and his hair was standing up on his head. His eyes were glued to a black binder filled with paper, a manila folder clutched so tightly in his right hand, the knuckles were white. There was absolute silence in the kitchen – aside from the slight clanking of dishes that Yuzu set on the long, wooden table. The old man sat at the head of the table, as was his custom, while Karin sat to his left. Ichigo's place was at his right, where the man could rule over him and make sure he was being groomed properly.

Ichigo slid into his seat quietly, trying to keep his father's attention away from him for just a little longer, but it wasn't meant to be. As soon as his ass hit the cushioned chair, the dark-haired man's eyes lifted and settled on him.

"How is school, son?"

He shrugged. School was school and the old man knew that. "It's cool."

"Pardon?"

Trying to suppress the urge to roll his eyes, he stared down at the empty plate in front of him. "It's fine," he gritted.

"Ah. What about your activities?"

Ichigo inwardly grimaced. If only his father knew that he was lying about being involved in student activities, he wouldn't have an ass anymore. Possibly not even a soul. "They're fine as well. What about you? How's the business?" he asked, carefully steering the conversation away from himself.

The man's eyes lit up, even while his expression remained the same. "Our stock has risen by five percent in the last two weeks and..."

Ichigo felt his eyes glaze over as he tuned out the voice of his father. He wasn't really interested in what the man was speaking of; he'd just needed a subject change. Now the man, Isshin Kurosaki, was off on a tangent, communicating via business jargon. A language Ichigo didn't understand and didn't _want_ to understand, either. Luckily, he was granted a reprieve in the form of his little sister. She brought over large dishes of food, setting them onto the table, right in front of their old man. Isshin was a stickler about being served first. He'd been that way when Ichigo's mom had still been alive and he was the same now. The guy would never change and that went for everything he stood for. But that didn't even come close to how the true patriarch of the Kurosaki family felt. Ichigo's grandfather was a piece of work...and then some. His beliefs were set in stone and old as dirt, so it was more than obvious that Ichigo kept a lot of secrets. It was bad enough with his piercings and tattoos. If the old men knew what he wished to pursue as a profession, they'd lock him in a basement until he changed his mind. Or kill him. That would work too.

After Isshin was served, Ichigo went about serving his sisters and then himself. The dinner was a quiet affair, but the tension in the room hovered over the table like a storm cloud. Towards the end of the meal, Isshin's cell phone began clamoring noisily, vibrating against the table as well.

"Isshin Kurosaki speaking," he barked as he answered the ringing device.

Ichigo ignored the conversation, but couldn't look past the disappointment creeping over Yuzu's face. All he could do was inwardly throw a tantrum. It was all kinds of fucked up, this family of his, but it was the only family he had. Most of the time he just wished his mother was still alive to keep his father in line.

"I'll be right there." Isshin ended the call and rose from the table, smoothing the front of his blazer and adjusting his tie. "I'm going back to the office. Behave yourselves."

With that, the man swept from the kitchen, leaving nothing but the scent of Armani cologne in his wake. Ichigo curled his upper lip back and clutched his fork with a tight fist. He didn't even want to look at Yuzu, knowing she would be crestfallen and probably near tears. He did peer at Karin, however, and wasn't surprised in the least to see the indifferent expression resting on her youthful features. She took one last bite of her food, set down her fork and eased from the table.

"I'm goin' ta bed," she stated as she too left the kitchen.

With no other options, Ichigo turned to Yuzu, cursing his father for being such an asshole. Yuzu's eyes were filled with tears, but so far it seemed like she refused to let them fall. She slowly raised her head and met Ichigo's stare.

"I'm OK, Onii-chan. You should go and get some rest. I'll clean up here."

"Yeah right. And leave you with all these dishes? I don't think so, kid. C'mon, I'll wash and you dry."

Yuzu gave him a soft smile before climbing to her feet and beginning to collect the dishes. Ichigo did the same, heart heavy as he watched his little sister trudge around the kitchen. It was depressing how Yuzu seemed to be the only sibling affected by their father's callousness and harsh work schedule, but Ichigo had formed a method of comfort for her. Whenever Isshin left on business or whatever else kept him from his family, Ichigo would help his sister do the dishes the old-fashioned way. Sure, they had two dishwashers, but when they took their time and actually washed the plates and bowls and pans themselves, it gave them time to bond and connect. It was like therapy.

After the dishes were done, Ichigo walked Yuzu to her room before heading to his own. She'd put up a fuss when he'd teasingly asked her if she needed him to tuck her in, making him feel much better about leaving her to her own devices for the evening. She'd closed her door and he'd dragged himself to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. It was the only way he could think to release the anger bubbling under the surface. His father pissed him off so much, and the fucked up part was how there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

He'd been making his way to his bed when he realized his phone was blinking. He frowned and slouched over to where it rested on his desk, wondering who the hell had called or sent him a message. He activated the screen and both orange brows shot towards his hairline. _Oh really?_

_See, now I'm bored_

Ichigo felt his face crease into his best Grinch grin as he slid over to his bed and made himself comfortable.

_And whose fault is that?_

He put one arm behind his head as he settled in, waiting for Grimmjow's reply. Maybe the night wasn't a complete bust after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

_Take me under_

_I'm giving in to you_

_I'm dying tonight_

_I'm giving in to you_

_Watch me crumble_

_I'm giving in to you_

_I'm crying tonight_

_I'm giving in to you_

_-Adema-_

XOXOXO

After Grimmjow hung up the phone with Kurosaki, heart racing and hands slightly shaking from nerves, he glanced over at his bed with a grimace. He'd completely forgotten about his green-haired audience. Nel was perched on the bed, no longer lounging against the plethora of pillows he owned, but sitting up straight and staring directly at him, mouth open and wheat-gray eyes wide as saucers.

"D-did you just say what I think you said?" she stuttered, voice quiet and uncertain.

"That depends."

"Depends, my _ass_! Grimmjow were you just talking to Kurosaki? As in _Ichigo_ Kurosaki? Heir to Kurosaki Inc.?"

He heaved a sigh. He'd been afraid of this and because he'd lost his cool and forgotten the girl was in the room, he now had to reveal the secret he'd been carefully keeping for a week now.

"Look, Nel. What I tell you stays in this room, you hear me?" he growled, face serious as a heart attack and voice equally deadly.

Her eyes were wide, but she nodded anyway.

"I fuckin' mean it, Nel. That means no runnin' to Orihime and Rangiku. This ain't gossip and if I find out you even _thought_ about talkin' 'bout this, I'll kill you."

"Jesus Christ, cousin. Is it _that_ serious?" she breathed, laying a hand over her ample breast.

Grimmjow fastened his eyes to his feet and frowned. "I had sex with him at the Grantz's Halloween party," he said quietly.

Nel gasped. When he glanced up to check her expression, it made him wince. Her eyes were huge and glistening as she sat forward. "Grimm, are you crazy? Your father-"

"I know, OK!" he snapped before pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "I fuckin' know. Why ya think I didn't wanna say nothin' about it? I didn't even know it was him at the party. I was drunk as hell and we were both wearing costumes. I...I thought he was somebody else. Somebody I'd never met before. Fuck," his voice tapered off, the gravity of the situation weighing him down. "We ended up with each other's numbers somehow and started sendin' texts everyday. Nel, it's so fucked up, 'cuz I got to know him. I know everything that guy likes, everything he hates. I-"

"You _like_ him," she ended for him.

He frowned. "That's not what I was gonna say, but yeah. I do like him. By the time I realized that "Gambit" was Kurosaki, it was already too late."

"Oh my God, Grimm, this is insane. You can't see him anymore, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that, too. That's why I was so shocked when he just sent me a text. We kinda parted ways with the agreement not ta talk about what happened and not ta contact each other anymore. I don't get that guy," he mumbled, running an agitated hand through his hair again.

"Maybe he likes you too," Nel suggested with a shrug. "I mean, it makes sense if you both thought the other was someone else."

Grimmjow stared at his toes, eyes wide. He hadn't even let that thought cross his mind, he'd been so caught up with his own feelings. Did Kurosaki still like him, even though he knew who he really was now? The thought sent a thrill ripping through him. Maybe he wasn't the only one fighting with emotions and unwanted feelings.

"Tch. It don't really matter now. We can't see each other 'cuz of our families."

"This is kind of heartbreaking," Nel said softly, fingers twisting the material of her sweater.

"Stop being melodramatic," he grunted, refusing to admit he'd been thinking along the same lines.

The entire situation was a testament to his father's unfairness. Hell, to both he and Kurosaki's fathers' unfairness. The older men were tyrants, ruling their families like they were mere pawns. It was depressing as hell. If Grimmjow tried to explain to his father that he wanted to be a songwriter/producer instead of taking over the family business, the older man would probably hang him from the ceiling by his balls until he changed his tune. He hated his father's business, though. He'd never had any intentions of grabbing the reins after college; he just had to come up with a way to get away from the old man and his ancient ways of thinking.

Movement in his peripheral brought his attention back to Nel on his bed. She glanced at her watch before standing and stretching her back.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, cousin, but your secret is safe with me," she stated before dancing her way to the door.

Her enthusiasm was scary as hell.

"Nel, I mean it. Don't open your mouth about this," he growled.

She turned back to him at the door and smiled. "Of course I won't."

With that, she was gone, leaving nothing but the scent of her pear-berry perfume. He would strangle Nel with her own hair if she breathed a word about what he'd just disclosed to her. Grimmjow rubbed a hand over his face and rose from his desk chair, phone still clutched tightly in his fist. What was he going to do about Kurosaki? No matter how much the orange-haired brat pissed him off, he couldn't deny the lingering feelings of attraction and interest in the guy. That alone made him mad, but when added to the helpless tone of their predicament, it caused him to rage and spit fire.

He plopped down onto his bed, resuming his earlier position as he kicked his feet up and reclined against the plush pillows. He set his phone down beside him and reached for the book his asshole brother had interrupted. An hour managed to drag by before he finally threw the book down, done pretending to read it. He was restless and agitated. His head flew back against the pillows as he closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. He couldn't. He kept seeing Kurosaki and his bright orange hair. His wide, dimpled grin and those fucking fiery brown eyes...

He peered down at the phone resting next to his thigh and clenched his hands into fists, physically fighting with himself not to pick up the damned thing. He was being very counterproductive right now. Why couldn't he shake Kurosaki off? The boy manned his thoughts and almost haunted his dreams. He felt pathetic. Weak. He sighed, resigned. No, he wasn't weak. He just wanted Kurosaki and since he always got what he wanted, it was a no-brainer that he was flipping out over not being able to have him. He glared at the wall straight ahead and seethed. He was too "bull in a china shop" to hide a relationship, so that route was out. Obviously dating the orange-haired teen openly was out of the question, so what options did that leave him with? He chewed his thumbnail and bounced his knees as he forced his brain to work harder than it normally did.

Fuck! Plotting wasn't his thing; his approach was more along the lines of "in your face and stomp on your feet." He finally gave in and reached for his phone, but instead of dialing Kurosaki, he called Ilforte. Maybe the blond closet romantic would have some advice for him since he was so big on chances and shit. He waited while the line rang three times.

"Hello, my gorgeous buddy! How is life on your side of town?" Ilforte's tenor piped through the speaker.

Grimmjow fought a growl as he rubbed his eyes. "I need yer help, 'Forte."

"Uh-oh. What'd Eric do this time?"

"It wasn't him. It's uh, well...you know...I guess..."

"Hey, Grimm?" Ilforte interrupted after a deep sigh, voice suddenly serious.

"I don't know how ta say it, OK?"

"I get it, dude. But I think it's time you know how obvious you two are with all your bickering and pointless rivalry."

"I know. But even if it's pointless, there ain't shit we can do about it. I can't see him anymore, he can't see me anymore, but fer some reason, I can't stop thinkin' 'bout him. Not ta mention, he hit me up today."

"...Seriously?"

Grimmjow nodded before he realized his best friend couldn't see him. "Yeah. At first, it was just a text, then I, uh...I called him. Sorta heat a'the moment type thing. I don't get it, though. Why's he still textin' an' talkin' ta me if we're not s'posed ta talk ta each other anymore?"

Ilforte gave his signature long-suffering sigh. "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, you can't possibly be that fucking stupid."

The blue-haired teen bristled, offended. "What's that mean?"

"Grimm! You're both human beings, never mind hormonal teenage boys! What the hell did you expect after having sex, drunk or not?"

He was pissed. "I didn't think I wouldn't be able to get the kid outta my head, 'Forte! I fuck all the time! What makes Kurosaki so fuckin' different?"

Ilforte paused. "Are you asking _me_ or _yourself?"_ he finally inquired quietly.

It was a frightening question. One that made his heart race and his stomach quiver. He didn't want to turn that question inward, he really didn't. He was sure he wouldn't like what he'd find. Ilforte didn't have that reservation, apparently.

"Look, Grimm. It's time you started thinking about yourself for a change. I understand your father's an asshole with a superiority complex second only to Napoleon, but if you keep doing what he says, you'll never be happy. You'll never be in the entertainment business; hell, you'll never find someone to be with that _you_ chose. You'll be fucking miserable for the rest of your life. Now...is that what you want?"

God, it caused him physical pain. Grimmjow closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, unexpectedly warring with tears. He hated the fact that he wasn't his own person, that his father had the ultimate say-so in his life. He couldn't do anything without the man's express permission and it was killing him slowly. He just hadn't realized it until Ilforte laid it out so eloquently. Kurosaki was merely a piece to a very large, complex puzzle that seemed impossible to solve. So, what should he do? He liked the guy, even though they were sworn enemies. He wanted to spend time with him, even though they'd been raised to hate one another. He wanted to kiss Kurosaki for real, this time without the overwhelming influence of alcohol.

Shit, for the first time in his life, he wanted an actual relationship with another person. A relationship where they could share everything with each other, have all the sex they wanted and not have to worry about others poking their noses where they didn't belong. He wanted that, and he wanted it with Kurosaki.

"You know I don't want that, 'Forte. But...my hands're tied. What am I s'posed ta do?" he muttered as he lay back against his pillows and covered his face with his free hand.

"Ask yourself this: do you like Kurosaki enough to risk your old man's wrath?" Ilforte responded. "Is Kurosaki worth it? And more importantly, does Kurosaki feel the same way?"

After a few minutes of silence, Grimmjow knew the answers to the first two questions, but the last one stumped him. He didn't know for sure how Kurosaki felt about him, didn't know if the orange-haired teen thought whatever was going on between them was worth the price it'd cost in the long run. But...he wanted to find out.

"Thanks, 'Forte," he mumbled, hand still covering his face.

"You're my best bud, Grimm. I just wanna see you happy, ya know?"

Grimmjow grinned under his hand, refusing to admit that his friend's heartfelt words had him blushing. "Yeah, same here. I'll talk ta ya later."

Ilforte chuckled. "Tell Kurosaki I said hi."

With that, the connection was ended, but Grimmjow would be lying if he said he didn't feel a million times better. He now had a solution to his Kurosaki problem. It was risky as all hell, but he'd always been an impulsive kind of guy. His family sucked, the rules he had to follow sucked, hell, everything about his current existence sucked. Except his looks, but that was just him being vain. The one truly good thing he could admit to was Kurosaki. Yes, they'd been enemies all their lives, yes, their families hated each other with an otherworldly passion, but...things had changed. After that Halloween party – no, who was he kidding? He'd been attracted to his nemesis since before the party. But now that he knew what it was like to touch the other boy, kiss him, be inside him...he wanted more.

Consequences be damned.

He took a long look at his phone before going into his text messages and finding the recent thread he'd shared with Kurosaki. After garnering some courage, he quickly typed up a short message.

_See, now I'm bored_

He closed his eyes and hoped he was doing the right thing. His father would kill him deader than a zombie, but strangely...he no longer cared. He was finally at peace with himself. Snorting, he chuckled, realizing belatedly that he sounded like a Buddhist monk. Mid-chortle, his phone vibrated strongly, making him jump and his heart skip a few beats. He glanced at the screen and actually smiled.

_And whose fault is that?_

His reply was swift and brief, but directly to the point.

_Yours_

Kurosaki's response was just as quick.

_Ha! I thought u told me 2 fuck off..._

Grimmjow quirked his lips. Yeah, he _had_ told the teen that.

_Changed my mind. Problem with that?_

He bit his bottom lip as he waited for Kurosaki's impending smart-ass reply. Grimmjow knew it was coming and he was looking forward to it.

_No_

Huh? He knew his face was comically confused as he stared at the simple statement. Where was that slick tongue of Kurosaki's? Why hadn't he torn a strip off of him?

 _No?_ he sent back.

_What're u, my parrot?_

Ah, there it was. He grinned as he typed another message. He was going out on a limb with this one, but hey, go hard or go home was his motto.

_I'd rather be sumthin else_

There was a long stretch of silence where Grimmjow thought he'd gone and scared the orange-haired brat away. Then his phone vibrated.

_R u flirting with me?_

He outright laughed at that. Kurosaki was fucking hilarious. But Grimmjow was being serious.

_Yeah_

He waited with bated breath. Would Kurosaki tell him to fuck off this time around? He hoped not because then he'd have to kill the guy next time he saw him.

_Well this is awkward..._

He shrugged. It was true.

_Don't gotta be_

This time the silence was longer and more pronounced. In fact, he was pretty sure Kurosaki had tossed his phone aside and forgotten about their message conversation. And then his phone was vibrating again. However, when he went to type in a reply, he realized the screen was flashing, the name "Gambit" blinking up at him. Incoming call. He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat before tapping the connect button and lifting the phone to his ear.

"Yo," he greeted more confidently than he felt.

"I need to hear your voice when I ask you this," Kurosaki said, deep, husky voice uncertain. "Are you fuckin' with me right now?"

Grimmjow could hear how serious the other boy was and it made him pause. Kurosaki thought he was just playing around? Time to clear that up.

"No," he answered flatly. "I'm serious."

"Why? Didn't you say we couldn't...well, that we shouldn't talk anymore?"

He sighed. They would get nowhere if Kurosaki kept bringing up the past. "Yeah, I did, but I changed my mind. Look, Kurosaki, let's not beat around the bush, yeah? Ya like me, right?"

This time, Kurosaki gave a deep sigh. "As much as I hate to admit it, yeah. I thought I couldn't stand yer ass, but now I know who you really are and...I like it."

"Good. I feel the exact same way. So whadda we do now?"

"I don't know. You're askin' me like I've got the answer to that. I thought there wasn't much we _could_ do. Our families, remember?"

Grimmjow paused and chewed his bottom lip. This was it. It was either now or never and _he_ was banking on now. "Fuck em," he grunted. "I wanna see where this goes, yeah? I ain't never actually liked somebody before."

Kurosaki's sexy laughter floated through the receiver. "That's kinda cute."

He tried to be offended, but it didn't work. Instead, he grinned. "Shut up, Kurosaki."

"I'm jus' sayin'. I'm used to you being an asshole, so this nice side of you is endearing. Actually, it's a little scary now that I think about it."

"Hey!" he snapped, even though he was still smiling. "Fuck you!"

A brief pause and then Kurosaki went and surprised him. "That a promise?"

Heat pooled in his gut and groin at the seductive words and tone. Fuck yes, it was a promise. Hell, he liked this tempting side of the orange-haired teen. Matter of fact, he could get very used to it.

"Hell, yeah," he growled, thoughts of tasting the boy for real slowly giving him an erection. Kurosaki cleared his throat, but Grimmjow was able to discern the arousal in the action. With a mischievous smirk, he sat up on his bed and threw his legs over the side of it. "I wanna see you."

"W-what?" Kurosaki stuttered.

"You heard me, Kurosaki. I wanna see you. Now."

"But...we'll get caught."

"No, we won't. Meet me at Dango."

Kurosaki paused again, then blew out a breath. "In Tokyo? That's an hour away!"

"I know that," Grimmjow said patiently, although his feet were already carrying him to his closet. "So, I figure I'll be seein' ya 'round twelve."

He put the call on speaker and set it on one of the shelves in his walk-in closet. Then, he rooted around for a clean t-shirt and pants. He settled on a pair of black warm-up pants, the tear away kind, and a blue shirt sporting the Captain America shield on front. He grabbed a black hoodie before noticing that Kurosaki hadn't said a word.

"Hey, you still there?" he asked.

"You're serious about this?" Kurosaki asked and the incredulity in his voice was palpable.

"Fuck yes, Kurosaki. We ain't gonna be able ta see each other the way we want over here. Definitely not in school. So, why not meet up outta town, away from the old men?"

"I...I..."

Grimmjow silently snarled. He so wasn't about to let Kurosaki slip out of this one. Not after he'd gone to all the trouble of letting the idiot know how he felt. But then again, maybe the other boy had just been playing along with him, thinking it was all a big joke, and now that he knew Grimmjow was serious, he wanted to back out. That would suck so hard.

"You don' wanna see me?" he asked, frustrated.

"I see you at school."

Ouch.

"Oh," he mumbled, feeling like an absolute fool. That sure as hell didn't feel good. "OK, then. Let's jus' pretend this conversation never happened."

He wanted to get off the phone as quickly as possible. Maybe he'd be able to salvage a little of his dignity and work on forgetting about the orange-haired asshole. He couldn't believe Kurosaki had the nerve... His throat tightened, betraying his true emotions. He was severely disappointed and not only that, but this was probably the first time he'd ever had his feelings hurt.

"You're so easy to fuck with."

Grimmjow froze, hand halfway to his phone so he could disconnect the call. "What the fuck you jus' say ta me?"

"I said you're so easy to fuck with. Almost _too_ easy," Kurosaki gloated. "I'll see you in an hour."

The call ended, his phone blinking a few times before the screen went completely black. He was still reeling from shock, standing in front of his closet like an imbecile. He couldn't help it, though. He'd gone from disappointed, to hurt, to downright pissed all in a matter of seconds, only to have Kurosaki shock the shit out of him. He didn't know how to gracefully land on his feet after that. With an amused grin and a shake of his head, he rolled his eyes. He'd get it together by the time he made it to Dango, though, and then he'd show that little brat who was boss.

XOXOXO

Ichigo pulled into a parking space across from the all-night restaurant, where they served a variety of dango as well as green tea and coffee. The place was cozy and out of the way, and not all that lively after a certain hour, which made it the perfect meeting place for him and Grimmjow.

As he climbed out of his Audi, he took a deep breath and collected himself, still slightly reeling from shock. Grimmjow had done a complete one-eighty, first flirting with Ichigo in his text messages, then when Ichigo'd called him to make sure his cheese wasn't sliding off its cracker, the guy had gone and blown his mind. So, he wasn't the only one who still had interest invested? That was great news. Yes, he was terrified of his old man finding out, but at the same time, he was intrigued by Grimmjow. He'd been attracted to the boy even before that fated Halloween party and now that he knew who the idiot really was behind his Zorro mask, he wanted to go further. He wanted to know everything and it shocked the hell out of him.

He crossed the street and jogged towards the entrance. After a quick sweep of the other cars parked along the block, he grinned. Grimmjow was early; he easily spotted the boy's black BMW a little ways down from the restaurant. And then he got nervous. He was used to arguing and fighting with the tall, blue-haired cretin, but here he was on his way to an impromptu date with him. How was he supposed to act? What was he supposed to say? Shit, this was giving him a headache.

He breezed through the door of the establishment and blinked, adjusting to the dim lighting. He didn't see Grimmjow anywhere near the front, which in hindsight was probably a good idea, so he made his way around the side of the cashier's counter. Bingo. Bright blue hair appeared in his direct line of sight at the very back of the rectangular room. Grimmjow sat facing him, but his head was bent over a tea cup, blue brows scrunched together. What the hell was he thinking about with so much focus? Ichigo started over to him, heart pounding ruthlessly. God, Grimmjow was fucking sexy, even wearing a mean mug. From the 00 gauges in his ears, to the dark tattoos on his neck and forearms: the other boy was a masterpiece.

He'd never say that shit to the guy, though. It'd go straight to his head.

He was about ten feet away from Grimmjow's table, when lulling blue eyes lifted and made him freeze, muscles seizing automatically. There was a span of about fifteen seconds where all they did was stare at each other...and then Grimmjow surged to his feet, the abrupt movement upsetting the table and overturning the tea cup in front of him.

"Shit," the taller boy cursed as he fumbled with the small dish before righting it and running a hand through his hair.

When Grimmjow locked eyes with him again, this time a faint pink tinge dusting the bridge of his straight nose, Ichigo arched a brow. Then, he gave a crooked grin as he moved closer. The often-time, explosively temperamental blue-haired teen was actually flustered. _This is too precious_ , he thought as he came to a slow stop in front of his former enemy. Grimmjow regarded him with a lucid, royal-blue gaze, and the beauty of it only made Ichigo want to mess with the guy more. Maybe he could get more appetizing cuteness out of the normally brutish boy.

He lowered his voice and hooded his own eyes before glancing up through dark lashes. "Hey," he said seductively.

Grimmjow's reaction could only be classified as priceless. Pure bricks of gold.

Lips pressed together and ears went scarlet as the taller teen openly gaped, lust and admiration shining through the windows of his soul. And then Ichigo's plan backfired spectacularly. Gone went the flustering endearment of a second ago and in its place was a narrow-eyed predator, sizing up his prey. Ichigo grinned through the sudden unease spreading around in his belly and brought a hand to the back of his neck. Maybe he'd gone too far with the playfulness. He only wanted to break the ice, but now it looked like Grimmjow was ready to kill him for doing so.

But Ichigo changed his tune when the blue-haired boy closed the gap between them, long arms going around his waist and pulling him tight to a broad chest, where Grimmjow growled, "Yer a pain in the ass, Kurosaki," before connecting their lips. Ichigo blinked, inwardly thankful for the dim lighting and the convenient location at the back of the restaurant. Then, he melted into the warm, urgent kiss, eyes rolling shut as he tried to press himself flat against the other boy.

So, apparently, words were unnecessary at this point. They both wanted each other; that was made more than clear, and Ichigo agreed with his subconscious that talking would have just made shit more awkward. Grimmjow's tongue was dexterous and aggressive, and it was incredibly arousing hearing their tongue rings rhythmically clink together. His hands traced along sinewy arms and over taut shoulders before locking around Grimmjow's strong neck. This was nice. No, fuck that. This was _amazing_. He moaned quietly and the other boy returned it just as passionately. The hold on Ichigo's waist tightened drastically as the kiss grew feverish and desperate. Time to slow down.

Ichigo pulled back, hooded brown eyes peering up into slits of the Pacific. He was breathing so hard, he was surprised he wasn't wheezing. And that was saying nothing of the fit his heart was throwing. Still, they had to pace themselves. Even though they were out of their hometown, their families were still influential all over the country and knew people everywhere. They could never be too safe. Ichigo opened his mouth to state just that, when Grimmjow leaned forward and rested his forehead against his. The blue-haired teen's own breathing was haggard and his body shook lightly.

Grimmjow licked his tempting lips before murmuring, "Le's get outta here, Kurosaki."

Ichigo blinked, eyes wide. Yes, he was shocked out of his shoes, but his libido was giving the taller boy a standing ovation for his bluntness. He'd already lost the protestation war - not that he'd really wanted to win in the first place. So, that thought in mind, he nodded and smirked.

"Yeah. Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

The hotel was small, out of the way, and made expressly for secret affairs, it seemed. Grimmjow pulled Kurosaki along the deserted, off-white corridors to their assigned room, grinning like he'd just won a brand new luxury car. When they reached the door that read 106, he paused and looked behind him at the orange-haired boy holding the key.

"Gimme," he demanded.

Kurosaki scowled and snatched his hand out of Grimmjow's grasp. "Don't tell me what to do!"

It was Grimmjow's turn to scowl. "Jus' open the fuckin' door."

"Fuck you!"

"Yeah, well, that's the point here, but yer draggin' yer feet!"

"Jeez, yer an idiot. What's the rush anyway?"

Grimmjow let Kurosaki step up to the door, but put his arms around the shorter teen's waist and rested his chin on one of the boy's shoulders. "Can ya blame me for wantin' to be alone with you?"

He grinned as he watched Kurosaki's ear go red. "Shut up, pervert," the orange-haired teen grumbled before the key was swiped through the lock, and they both traipsed inside.

Grimmjow slowly took in the room, eyes big and stunned. Then, he promptly burst into laughter. Kurosaki, on the other hand, remained absolutely still, jaw on the floor and brown eyes nearly popping out of his head.

"What the fuck?" he breathed.

It appeared they'd been given a "honeymoon suite." The room wasn't really a suite, but the honeymoon part had been dramatic in its over-exaggeration. Heavy, red velvet drapes covered the one window in the room, while a ridiculous, heart-shaped bed took up the center of the space. The carpet was a gaudy crimson, and the jacuzzi in the corner was also in the shape of the time-honored symbol for love. Hell, even the walls were an offensive blood-red.

It was positively hilarious. Kurosaki didn't think so, though.

"What the hell is this shit?" he screeched. He swung narrowed, accusatory eyes in Grimmjow's direction. "You did this, didn't you?"

Grimmjow's mouth fell open in genuine shock. "Wha-?"

"You had somethin' ta do with this! This has your fuckin' name written all over it!"

"Hey, ya lil shit! I'm a victim jus' like you!"

"Yeah, right! You probably requested this room or something!"

"Oh yeah, Kurosaki. Sure. Mind tellin' me when I had time ta do somethin' like that with you right there next ta me?"

Grimmjow couldn't believe the cheek. The _nerve_. Kurosaki was fucking retarded.

Kurosaki's nose scrunched as he glared at the room for a moment. "It's so ugly," he said, voice finally lowering from the rafters.

"Ya got that right. Don't do a thing fer my hair," Grimmjow agreed.

"Eww, you sound like a girl," Kurosaki chuckled as he gave Grimmjow the universal "I hope you're joking" look.

Grimmjow started to retort, but was distracted by Kurosaki's dimples and twinkling brown eyes. The appalling room was forgotten as he strolled over to the other teen and smirked down at him.

"You should smile more often, Kurosaki."

Kurosaki's ears went red again as he stared up at Grimmjow with a frown. It was like he was confused, or didn't quite know how to take what Grimmjow had just said to him. Understandable. They _were_ still working on the "former enemies" hurdle, so it would take some time and adjustment.

"I _like_ hearing you say that, but it feels weird too," Kurosaki replied, head tilted to the side.

"Like a guilty pleasure, right?"

Kurosaki smiled. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Grimmjow suddenly got a wicked idea and grinned. Before the other boy could question him, however, he bent his legs and scooped Kurosaki off his feet, holding him in his arms bridal style.

"What the hell?! Let me down, dumbass!"

"Christ, Kurosaki! I didn't know ya were this heavy. Ya look like a light-weight."

Kurosaki's legs beat the air, but his hands clung to Grimmjow's hoodie for dear life. It was such a contradiction, it made the blue-haired teen laugh.

"Put me down! Now! This is fuckin' embarrassin'!"

"Aww, c'mon, honey. Live a little," Grimmjow teased, thoroughly enjoying the maroon shade covering Kurosaki's face.

"Fuck you!"

"No, no. Other way around."

Grimmjow carried the orange-haired spitfire to the heart-shaped bed and promptly dropped him onto it. He never would have guessed Kurosaki was so solid.

 _Sheesh_.

Kurosaki barely bounced on the mattress before he was off it and leaping at Grimmjow, arms swinging with abandon. OK, Grimmjow hadn't been expecting that. He stumbled back and tripped on the carpet, falling to his ass before he was completely overwhelmed by the other boy. All he could do was throw up his hands to protect his face as he shook and howled with uncontrollable laughter.

"Ya think it's funny, jerk?" Kurosaki shouted. "Got a kick outta that, huh?"

Grimmjow soon grew tired of being pummeled, so he grabbed Kurosaki's wrists and gave them a good, hard yank, throwing the teen off balance. Kurosaki fell onto Grimmjow's chest, and straddled his legs. _Very nice_ , Grimmjow thought with a saucy grin. He leaned forward and kissed Kurosaki's jaw, giving a quiet chuckle when the boy froze and glared down at him. But with the other boy unmoving, Grimmjow took advantage of the moment and put a hand at the back of Kurosaki's neck, drawing him into a full-on lip-lock. Once Kurosaki was putty in his hands, Grimmjow pulled back and grinned again.

"Now, tha's better, ain't it?"

"You're an asshole," Kurosaki murmured, but the heat in his voice was long gone.

Grimmjow was pushed onto his back as Kurosaki leaned in and connected their lips again. Now, this was _indeed_ nice. Rough hands came up and framed the sides of Grimmjow's face, the gentle gesture making his eyes slide shut. Warmth was instantaneous while he enjoyed the sensation of Kurosaki perched on top of him, body slim, yet incredibly solid. Grimmjow's hand traveled down the side of the orange-haired boy's neck, down over a sturdy shoulder, and down Kurosaki's side. The first hand made its way to the shorter teen's back, where it met with Grimmjow's other hand and locked together. That was about the time the kiss deepened. Kurosaki passed his warm, slick tongue across Grimmjow's bottom lip as if silently asking permission to take a dip inside his mouth. Grimmjow didn't mind one bit, so he parted his lips and met Kurosaki's tongue with his own.

"Mm," he moaned quietly, relishing the unique taste the other boy possessed.

Kurosaki mirrored his desire with a moan of his own and a slow roll of his hips. The resulting friction made Grimmjow's heart rate skyrocket. He got a good grip on the small of Kurosaki's back and lifted his own hips from the floor, rubbing their quickly forming erections together with more force. Grimmjow had wanted this again since the Halloween party at the Grantz mansion. He'd wanted the chance to redeem himself, and it was an even bigger opportunity now that he knew that "Gambit" was Kurosaki, the teen he'd been secretly lusting after during all three years of high school.

 _But first_...

Grimmjow pulled out of the kiss and studied Kurosaki with half-lidded blue eyes. "Much as I like where this is goin', I'm not too fond of the floor, Kurosaki."

Kurosaki gave a half-assed glance around the room before focusing on Grimmjow again. "Stop callin' me Kurosaki, Grimmjow."

With that, the orange-haired brat eased off of him and climbed to his feet. He turned his back and stared at the absurd-looking bed, head shaking back and forth.

"This bed – this _room_ takes me all the way outta the mood," Kurosaki went on, but Grimmjow was still on his last statement.

_Stop callin' me Kurosaki, Grimmjow_

So, Kurosaki wanted him to call him by his first name? Butterflies erupted in his gut at the thought. He'd never even _considered_ calling Kurosaki anything but his surname – unless it was an insult, but that didn't really count. Grimmjow sat up and rubbed the back of his head. Why was he so nervous all of a sudden? It was just a fucking name. He stood and put his hands on his hips, eyes glued to the floor. He opened his mouth to say the kid's first name, but it wouldn't come out. That made him snort a derisive chuckle, which in turn drew Kurosaki's attention.

"What's so funny? I'm serious. This room really sucks."

At long last, Grimmjow's eyes left the bright-red floor and locked onto the boy he was going to officially make his boyfriend.

"Um," he said.

Well, that was intelligent.

Kurosaki arched an orange brow, obviously amused. "You OK?" he asked, mouth twisted into a sideways smirk. "Or ya havin' another one of your dummy moments?"

Grimmjow frowned, but stalked over to Kurosaki and stood over him. "Shut up for a second. I'm trying to do something."

The idiot still opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but Grimmjow put one hand over it and placed the other on the boy's hip, which Grimmjow used to pull him closer. Once Kurosaki was in his arms, Grimmjow put his mouth next to the teen's ear and lowered his voice to a growl.

"Be quiet." When Kurosaki went silent, brown eyes wide, Grimmjow went on. "Ya said ya don' want me ta call ya 'Kurosaki', right?"

Kurosaki nodded, a muffled noise emanating from behind Grimmjow's hand.

"So that means ya want me ta call ya I-"

Grimmjow abruptly cut himself off, still ridiculously nervous. Why? He had no clue. There was no real reason for him to have a fluttering stomach, but the fact still remained that he _did_.

Kurosaki grinned under Grimmjow's hand, and Grimmjow could practically taste the smugness rolling off the slighter body. More muffled noises were made, until Grimmjow decided to have mercy and lifted his hand away from Kurosaki's mouth. Kurosaki licked his lips and grinned like a fiend.

"Are you _nervous_ , Grimmjow?"

"You know what? _Fuck_ you!"

Grimmjow felt himself pouting as he stormed over to the bathroom, but ask him if he cared. He had to get away for a minute to think.

XOXOXO

"Well, that was the plan!" Ichigo called to Grimmjow's retreating back.

The bathroom door slammed, and Ichigo burst into laughter. Grimmjow was _so fucking cute_. How come Ichigo had never seen that before? The blue-haired teenager was pouting. _Literally_ pouting and practically throwing a tantrum. And why? Ichigo had a feeling it was because Grimmjow wasn't accustomed to using Ichigo's first name, and it actually made him uncomfortable trying to do so. Now that Ichigo was aware of that, he was going to tease the other boy until he begged for mercy.

He moved over to the hideous bed and plopped down onto it. His eyebrows instantly hit the ceiling in surprise. Even though the thing was perfect for a romantic parody, it was undeniably soft. He ended up kicking off his sneakers and lying on his back, arms thrown behind his head. As Ichigo waited for Grimmjow to emerge from his hiding spot, he thought about how far they'd come in such a short amount of time. He really liked the blue-haired boy. Now that Ichigo could see the nicer side of Grimmjow, he was fond of what he'd discovered. And was _still_ discovering, at that. When Grimmjow had his guard down, he was easily flustered. Easily riled up. Easily teased. It was a cornucopia of fun to be had.

The bathroom door swung open with abrupt force, and Grimmjow appeared, face flushed, mouth drawn into a tight ball. "Are you gonna stop bein' an asshole now?" he growled from across the room.

Ichigo smirked and patted the spot next to him on the bed. "C'mere, big baby."

Blue eyes darkened as Grimmjow edged closer. All of a sudden, the predator was back. Grimmjow's feral grin exposed itself as he stripped out of his hoodie and kicked his sneakers off. After that, he made short work of the warm-up pants he wore. Ichigo's playful demeanor slipped as he stared. Grimmjow was coming out of his blue, Captain America t-shirt now, and it was getting pretty hard to concentrate on teasing the guy. Ichigo's attention was busy focusing on all the skin being revealed.

"Wow," he mumbled as Grimmjow sauntered over to the bed, now dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxers.

Grimmjow's abdomen was sharp and defined, as were his arms and legs and chest. Hell, the boy was like a living comic strip hero, muscles spread about in abundance and devastating good looks to boot. How on Earth was that fair?

Grimmjow crawled onto the bed, nudged Ichigo's legs apart and settled between them, rakish grin taking up half of his face. However, he must've changed his mind about his position because a moment later he was suddenly on the move again, this time not stopping until he was hovering directly over Ichigo. He leaned down and dropped a kiss on Ichigo's lips, making Ichigo nearly pant with want.

"Ya called me, _baby_?"

Oh. The asshole was being facetious, but Ichigo was close to a lusty breakdown from the boy's close proximity, not to mention enticing scent, so the playful sarcasm didn't really register the way it should have. Ichigo reached up and ran his hands over the taller boy's chest, down his abdomen, where he followed the line of dark-blue hair from his navel to the waistband of those black boxers. When his eyes took a break from molesting Grimmjow's gorgeous body, they locked with the boy's stunning ocean-blue eyes. No relief there, either.

"Say my name," Ichigo said quietly, determined to hear Grimmjow's deep voice wrap around his first name. "Please?"

He _did_ say he was determined.

Grimmjow's wide grin faltered for a split second, but he recovered with equal speed and kissed Ichigo again. "Hmm, jus' yer name?"

"I don't care if you tack 'strawberry' on the end of it. I just wanna hear you say it. I just realized you've never called me anything other than my surname. And how the hell're we gonna be a couple, with you callin' me 'Kurosaki' all the time?"

Grimmjow kissed him again, and Ichigo had the sneaking suspicion that Grimmjow was only doing it to shut him up.

"A couple, huh?"

That made him go silent. Wasn't that what Grimmjow had been saying on the phone before they'd met up at Dango's? Or had Ichigo been mistaken? Had he read between the lines the wrong way? That would _suck_.

"Th-that was..."

The next kiss was no longer playful. Grimmjow pried Ichigo's lips apart and slid his tongue into Ichigo's mouth with the ease bred from experience. Ichigo would admit he was distracted for a brief moment, but his thoughts were pulled right back to the matter at hand as soon as Grimmjow broke the steamy kiss. However, all his doubts were dispelled when the blue-haired boy spoke.

"Don' worry. Yer gonna be my boyfriend, Ichigo."

Heat speared straight to his face, ears and groin. He hadn't been ready for that. In fact, he'd been prepared to fight Grimmjow every step of the way, just so he could hear the boy say his name. Turned out his preparations had been for nothing. Grimmjow's voice had been low and rough, eyes hooded and sexy. Ichigo's arms went around the taller boy as he lifted his head from a heart-shaped pillow and kissed him. He paused his assault long enough to meet Grimmjow's amorous gaze and give a genuine smile.

"You're totally cute when you wanna be," he said.

Grimmjow didn't get pissed. Hell, he didn't even frown. Instead, he grinned back. "Only 'cuz I like ya."

Words kind of went out the window after that. Grimmjow's fingers latched on to the hem of Ichigo's t-shirt and tugged. All the while, their lips never disconnected, tongues never disengaged. Ichigo decided to be helpful and aided Grimmjow in getting his t-shirt off, the article forgotten as soon as it passed over his head. Grimmjow's hands were big and rough as they gently slid over Ichigo's abdomen, a total contradiction of the boy's usual behavior. Ichigo didn't mind. Hell no. In fact, he really liked it.

Grimmjow's lips were joined with his again, this time more aggressive, more passionate. The blue-haired boy let free a low growl as his lips traveled over Ichigo's jaw and down under his chin. Ichigo tilted his head back and sighed. The soft, moist pressure of Grimmjow's lips against the sensitive skin of his neck was like nirvana. And this time, he could take his time enjoying it. He wasn't falling-down drunk or over-eager for release. This time around, he would make sure he found everything that made the teen straddling him feel good.

Wet heat slid over his collarbone and distracted him from his thoughts. Not only that, but when Grimmjow's obviously experienced tongue wound its way down the center of his chest, Ichigo bit back a moan.

_I'm already this excited?_

"I wanna hear you," Grimmjow grunted, blue eyes peering up at Ichigo and devilish smirk pasted to his face.

The boy would be the death of him. Ichigo grinned through another restrained moan as Grimmjow's tongue and lips found his left nipple. His nipples were even more sensitive than his neck, so the effort to keep relatively silent was a lot harder. However, Grimmjow clearly had something up his sleeve to knock Ichigo's silence out of existence.

"This ain't gonna work," the other boy mumbled.

Ichigo watched as blue hair drifted closer to his face, until he and Grimmjow were again kissing. His toes curled at the persistent aggressiveness of Grimmjow's tongue and the arousing sensation of the boy's hands all over his torso. But just as he was arching into the touch, Grimmjow gripped both of his wrists and lifted Ichigo's arms above his own head. Grimmjow shifted his weight, kneeing Ichigo's legs apart and settling between them as both of Ichigo's wrists were held in one large hand. The friction was glorious, but it was nothing compared to what happened next. The kiss deepened as the blue-haired teen's free hand crept down Ichigo's chest, pausing to tweak already hardened nipples and tenderly running across the ridges of Ichigo's abdomen. And then that hand crept beneath the waistband of his sweats and boxers, teasing his pubic hair.

There went his toes again.

Still...he managed to keep it together. That was until Grimmjow wrapped long fingers around the erection tenting Ichigo's sweats. Heat erupted all over his body and prickled his skin. He broke away from the kiss as Grimmjow gave three, slow yet strong strokes. There was no way in hell he would've been able to hold back the moan that seemed to start in his gut before barreling up his throat and out past his lips.

"Unngghh."

"There you go," Grimmjow murmured with a grin, lips pressed to the side of Ichigo's face. "Lemme hear you."

"Shit," Ichigo choked.

Grimmjow was relentless. His hand sped up and tightened, making Ichigo's back arch off the bed, even as his hips tried to match the other boy's rhythm. However, the pleasure was crowding his mind, kicking coherent thought off the premises. Grimmjow's lips latched onto Ichigo's Adam's apple and sucked, the taller teen's hips rotating in a slow, firm grind.

He couldn't take it anymore.

"Take these off," Ichigo blurted, trying his hardest not to pant with need. He didn't really think it was working. "Mine and yours. I gotta feel all of you right now."

Grimmjow chuckled even though he moved to comply. "That was so hot, Ku – I mean, Ichigo."

Ichigo grinned in return, eyes glued to the rigid length that had just bobbed into view. Yes, he absently savored the sound of Grimmjow saying his name, but he was really too busy staring at the other boy's dick like it held the cure for the common cold.

"That's nice," he purred.

Grimmjow paused, bottomless blue eyes going wide. "Oh my _God_ ," he breathed.

It was like they moved in unison. Ichigo had already divested himself of his cumbersome boxers while he'd watched Grimmjow do the same. Therefore, there was no clothing hindering them when they came together this time around. Grimmjow again made himself at home between Ichigo's legs, and the feeling was just amazing. Grimmjow's skin was warm and soft, his muscles hard in some places, supple and pliant in others. The blue-haired boy seemed like the embodiment of sex and strength, not to mention mischievous affection. Ichigo threw his head back and relished the moan that escaped him. His arms wound around Grimmjow's shoulders, pulling the teen closer as they shared another soul-deep kiss.

Grimmjow's tongue teasingly circled the inside of Ichigo's mouth, and his hips mimicked the movement, driving Ichigo to absolute madness. Ichigo was being ground into the satin-covered mattress and loving every second of it. But now, he also had the added pleasure of hearing Grimmjow's brief grunts and groans as the friction steadily increased in pace and urgency. It was a heady feeling knowing he could turn such a headstrong teenager into a writhing pile of lust.

Grimmjow backed out of the kiss and hissed, pale-blue brows scrunched and alluring, blue eyes hooded. "Fuck, Ichigo."

Ichigo nodded, mind gone with the wind. "Mmhm, tha's right. Fuck Ichigo," he muttered before closing his eyes and exposing his neck.

Grimmjow didn't waste the presented opportunity and used his mouth to make love to the long, ruggedly elegant column. He propped himself over Ichigo with one hand and used the other to spread Ichigo's legs even further by cupping the back of a knee. Then, he rubbed his thick, unyielding shaft right along the seam of Ichigo's raised rear.

"Feel good?" Grimmjow rumbled.

Ichigo gripped the sheet where his hands had fallen to the bed. He felt drunk. No, better yet, he felt high. Yeah, that was it. He felt high as a crow's nest.

"Nngh...you _know_ it does," he mourned.

Grimmjow knew exactly what he was doing, and it just wasn't fair. Ichigo gasped when the other boy's erection nudged his tight opening, placing pressure just where Ichigo wanted it. Grimmjow pulled back, then pushed forward again, harder this time like he was trying to breach Ichigo without any form of preparation. But then he was gone, taking his blunt heat with him. Even though he didn't particularly wish for Grimmjow to penetrate him dry, it didn't mean he wanted the boy to stop everything, either. He tried to sit up, but was pushed flat to the bed again.

"Wait a minute," Grimmjow quietly said.

The large hand that had kept Ichigo from rising was now on its way down his chest and abdomen. Grimmjow was sitting back on his heels, one hand holding Ichigo's left thigh as he turned lecherous eyes to Ichigo's throbbing length. The request was on the tip of Ichigo's tongue, but before he could voice it, the blue-haired boy's other hand was wrapped around Ichigo's shaft. He groaned and let his head roll back against the ugly, red, heart-shaped pillow. A couple of strong strokes was all it took to have him hissing and cursing, his hips bucking and trying to find some type of rhythm. However, Grimmjow was being a tease. The boy wore a smirk as he slowed his hand's movements to a crawl. Ichigo growled, but it transformed into a whine when Grimmjow squeezed his dick before removing his hand.

"Asshole," he panted.

God, he was horny. He just wanted to have Grimmjow fill him up and put him out of his impassioned misery. He closed his eyes, prepared to go through hell and high water with the stubborn, blue-haired idiot. Imagine his surprise when wet heat surrounded the head of his shaft. Without his consent, his hips left the bed, and his hands grappled for purchase in Grimmjow's wild, blue hair. He made a nonsensical noise, heart racing and body aflame.

"Mmmm," Grimmjow moaned and lowered his mouth, taking more of Ichigo into it.

The vibrations coupled with the slick descent made Ichigo shudder like he was freezing cold. Grimmjow added a perfect amount of pressure as he sped up and settled into a brisk rhythm, the wet, erotic sounds spiking in the silence of the room. It was almost too much. Ichigo's legs were spread open like a book, one of Grimmjow's hands settling on Ichigo's left thigh, while the other gently caressed Ichigo's right side. Ichigo opened his eyes and raised himself to his elbows, where he watched with half-lidded eyes as Grimmjow sucked him off. Never would he have thought this would happen. Never. However, it _was_ , and the blow job was a work of art. A few times, Ichigo allowed his head to roll back, eyes closed, mouth open and left hand anchored in Grimmjow's soft hair.

It was fucking bliss.

Then, Grimmjow upped the ante. He gathered Ichigo's balls into his hand and rolled, massaged, and groped. Ichigo instantly jerked his hips and widened the space between his legs.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered. Through the haze of his desire-addled brain, Ichigo decided he wanted to try something with his newly established boyfriend. "Hey," he called, gently tugging on Grimmjow's hair.

"Hm?" Grimmjow grunted, never slowing his mouth.

"Fuck," Ichigo hissed. "Ease up for a sec."

Blue eyes finally revealed themselves as Grimmjow lifted his head and pulled away from Ichigo's damp erection. They didn't look happy, either.

"What?"

Ichigo managed a smirk. "C'mere."

The other boy moved towards him, the annoyance in his eyes slowly disappearing, but Ichigo stopped him when he realized Grimmjow didn't understand what he'd meant.

"Other way," he said with a teasing grin.

"Ku – Ichigo, what the fuck ya talkin' 'bout?" Grimmjow snapped at last.

"Turn around an' back up to my face, dumbass. I wanna suck yours too."

Grimmjow's eyes went wide as he stared at Ichigo and lost the battle against the blush devouring his face. Ichigo wanted to be peeved with the amount of time Grimmjow was wasting, but the look on the other boy's face prevented that. All he could do instead was smile and shake his head.

"I never knew you could be so goddamned cute."

That shucked the bigger boy out of his daze. Blue eyes narrowed. "Why don' _'chu_ turn around instead. I'll show ya cute," he growled.

Ichigo actually liked the sound of that. He smirked and sat up before slowly climbing to his hands and knees. "How ya wanna do this, stud?"

Grimmjow shook his head, but his "dirty little secret" grin was back in full force. He crawled in front of Ichigo and connected their lips for a quick but thorough kiss. Then, he lowered himself onto his back on the bed. Once he'd made himself comfortable, he crooked a finger at Ichigo and lifted the right side of his mouth in a lazy smirk.

"Come on up here, cowboy."

"Wow, that was so lame," Ichigo chortled, but did as requested.

Grimmjow shrugged and smirked, blue eyes practically dancing with mirth. Ichigo was still buzzing from the near orgasm he'd had a few minutes ago, so the sight of Grimmjow's highly enthused arousal almost had him on the edge again. On his way over the other boy's body, Ichigo paused and ran the fingertips of his right hand over the thick, straining length nestled in a thatch of dark-blue pubic hair. Grimmjow's manly area really was a great thing to look at; Ichigo hadn't been lying when he'd said that. He dipped his head for a cursory taste, tongue seeming to spontaneously combust at the onslaught of sensory enticement. Grimmjow's pre-cum was slightly bitter, but mostly musky.

Grimmjow hissed. "Get yer ass up here, Ichigo."

"Tch. Pushy, pushy."

He might've made a fuss, but in reality, he was eager to feel Grimmjow's mouth on him again. He turned his back to the blue-haired boy and backed over his torso, slowly making his way to that sinful mouth. As soon as Ichigo was in place, Grimmjow's slick tongue traced the underside of his erection.

"Mmm," Ichigo moaned and sighed all at the same time.

He didn't neglect the bobbing shaft before him, though. Without preamble, he gripped it by its base and lowered his mouth over it. Oh, it was divine. Grimmjow's slim hips gave an erratic jolt upwards as he groaned and wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist. His mouth was on the move as well and soon, Ichigo found himself competing with the bigger boy. Ichigo was trying to make Grimmjow cry out the same way _he_ had earlier. Then again, that might be a bit hard since Grimmjow had his mouth full already. Didn't stop the boy's hips, though. They rotated and lifted from the bed. It was so sexy. Ichigo slid his hands around to Grimmjow's firm, perfectly rounded rear and squeezed and kneaded. His eyes were closed as he enjoyed the feeling of that thick length sliding in and out of his mouth, while his own arousal was sucked in return.

But suddenly, the pleasure jacked up. Grimmjow had just eased a slicked finger into Ichigo's opening. On the fourth back and forth pass, Ichigo pulled away from Grimmjow's dampened manhood and gave a soft, almost helpless, open-mouthed moan. By the time Grimmjow had inserted three fingers, Ichigo felt like he was a dandelion seed pod, floating away with the wind. He could barely hold himself up, and he was ashamed to admit that he was unable to continue the blow job Grimmjow deserved. Every time he tried, the blue-haired boy crooked his fingers and made everything else disappear.

"Ichigo," Grimmjow called, voice a deep husk.

"Huh?"

"Let's fuck now."

"Second best thing you've said all night," Ichigo grunted in agreement.

He lowered his head and made sure Grimmjow's length was extra wet with his saliva before he climbed to his knees and slid forward. He hovered over the other boy's lap, expecting Grimmjow to grip his waist or his hips, and was surprised when the teen did neither. Grimmjow sat up and guided Ichigo's body around to face him. _Then_ , he wrapped his arms around him.

"I wanna see your face when I make you cum," Grimmjow murmured, blue eyes bright with want.

A blush fought its way across Ichigo's nose as he put his hands on the bigger boy's sturdy shoulders. Grimmjow grinned and lifted one hand from Ichigo's waist before placing it at the back of Ichigo's head. After that, their lips connected softly. Gently. Tenderly. Ichigo got butterflies. He parted his lips and slid his tongue along Grimmjow's bottom lip. Grimmjow opened his mouth and their tongues met tentatively at first, as if they were just learning each other. But the kiss quickly consumed them, the urgent smacking punctuated with harsh breathing. Ichigo lifted his hips, and after gripping Grimmjow's stiff length, he guided himself down onto it.

Their mouths separated, but their foreheads came together as they shared harsh breaths and deep groans. Grimmjow's arms tightened around Ichigo's waist, and his blue brows pulled together as they locked eyes.

"So good," Ichigo panted.

"Mmm," Grimmjow rumbled.

After allowing himself time to adjust Grimmjow's tight fit, Ichigo sighed and started to move. It was incredible. Each descent seemed to knock the breath clean from his lungs. It didn't help that Grimmjow met each of those downward thrusts with an upward one of his own. Ichigo's arms went around the other boy's neck as he further spread his legs and steadied himself. One of his hands wound its way into the hair at Grimmjow's nape as he kissed the boy again. His erection rubbed vigorously against Grimmjow's lower abdomen, and it made Ichigo give a very unmanly whimper.

"Ah!"

Grimmjow grunted at the noise and buried his face in Ichigo's neck, both hands now gripping Ichigo's waist. It was too much. They'd only just started and Ichigo felt like he was close to letting the guns go already. So many emotions raced through him as he rode and held onto the boy that used to be his most hated enemy. Their hips formed minds of their own and hiked up the pace. Oh, God, he was so hot. His blood felt like rivers of boiling water. Not to mention, he suddenly felt vulnerable and emotional. Ichigo tugged on Grimmjow's hair and made the boy lift his face from Ichigo's neck. He kissed the blue-haired teen and pulled back, hooked on the way Grimmjow watched him in return. This time, it was Grimmjow who leaned forward and briefly connected their lips before backing away and locking eyes again. The longer Ichigo looked into Grimmjow's captivating, sea-blue eyes, the more those emotions frothed and made a mess of his head and heart.

What the hell was going on?

Grimmjow's guttural groan broke up Ichigo's thoughts. He honed in on the other boy's expression and groaned himself. Grimmjow's eyes were so hooded with lust, they were nearly closed, and he had his full, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. His eyebrows were scrunched with a pleasure so intense, it looked painful. His thrusts became erratic, but also more firm. More aggressive. Ichigo dropped a kiss at the corner of Grimmjow's mouth before moving on to the boy's cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his forehead; Ichigo didn't miss a thing on that perfect face.

Grimmjow's hands tightened on Ichigo's hips as he gasped, "I-Ichigo!"

Between all the rubbing amidst their lower bodies and the thick heat driving itself in and out of him, Ichigo had already been dangerously walking the tightrope of release. But after hearing Grimmjow's deep voice call out his name so desperately, Ichigo tumbled off, falling into a sea of euphoria with arms wide open.

"Oh! Grimm!" he shouted, head thrown back, body trembling, and nails digging into the blue-haired boy's strong shoulders.

Ichigo literally rode out his climax until he felt boneless and content. When he opened his eyes, Grimmjow was watching him with a shy kind of grin. It was shocking enough to pierce through the cloud of pure satisfaction surrounding him.

"What's with that goofy grin?" he mumbled, too complacent to really put any heat in his voice.

He leaned into his boyfriend (the notion still made him blush and squirm) and placed their foreheads together. Grimmjow's lopsided smile spread as he too leaned forward. He kissed Ichigo and shrugged, the look on his face one of clear disbelief.

"I think I'm fallin' in love with you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god, this is sickly sweet...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

_What the fuck, I got nothing to lose  
I'm a slave to the way that you move  
I'm an addict for all that you do  
You're the only drug I wanna do yeah_

_-Maroon 5_

Onwards...

XOXOXO

Was he dreaming? Perhaps he'd been imagining things. He _had_ just had the orgasm of his life a moment ago, so it was plausible that his mind was conjuring something he only dreamed about hearing. He stared at Grimmjow, hoping and praying that his mind wasn't lying to him, that this all wasn't some sort of elaborate illusion.

"What did you say?"

Grimmjow sighed, but kept that small smile on his lips. "I feel like I'm fallin' in love with you, Ichigo. And this ain't new, so that's why I can say that and feel confident about it. I've liked you for a long time, and this that we have between us now...it's strong. Don't you feel it?"

Ichigo didn't want to appear weak or like he was overly emotional, but no one since his mom had said the L word to him. Not even his old man. Hell, his old man was never home long enough to care about more than what Ichigo was up to in school. It was depressing. But this...this was absolutely beautiful. Tears threatened to sting his eyes, so he swallowed a few times and closed them.

"I-I feel it," he whispered. He wasn't sure his voice was strong enough to carry at a normal tone. "Is this really happening right now?"

Grimmjow's arms around him tightened as he brought Ichigo closer. "It's definitely happening."

A sigh shuddered past Ichigo's lips as he leaned forward and rested his head against Grimmjow's broad shoulder. He felt it alright. He'd liked Grimmjow since he'd first lain eyes on the boy, but never in his wildest dreams had he thought they would end up together this way. Maybe even reckless sex had crossed his mind, but this? A real relationship? The prospect of love? Never. They were enemies, forbidden from even talking to each other. The notion alone should have been utter ridiculousness, yet here they were, defying the odds.

Grimmjow suddenly lay back against the pillows, his arms still wrapped around Ichigo's waist. Ichigo kept his head against Grimmjow's shoulder as he let his mind roam freely. He wanted to live in this moment for the rest of his life, even though he knew it was impossible. He knew they would have to return to their homes and go back to pretending to hate one another in public. This relationship would take a lot of work, but Ichigo was willing to fight for it. He was willing to be with the one person who'd told him he was falling for him.

"Grimmjow," he whispered before clearing his throat. The taller boy hummed in response, the deep vibration of his voice soothing to Ichigo. "What if I told you I was already there?"

"Already where?"

"There. For you."

Ichigo was struggling with his words for once because he was afraid of outright telling Grimmjow that he believed he was already in love with him. Probably had been for some time. What would be the taller boy's reply? Would he tell Ichigo he was moving too fast? But they'd already performed the most intimate act of a romantic relationship. It wouldn't make sense for Grimmjow to tell him that. Maybe Ichigo just needed to stop acting like a shy little girl and tell his new boyfriend how he really felt about him.

Grimmjow rolled them over until Ichigo was on his back, looking up at him. Blue eyes were blazing with passion and something else that Ichigo had only ever seen in his mother's gentle gaze. That alone had the power to clog his throat with emotion.

"What are you trying to tell me?" Grimmjow's voice was quiet and so contradicting to his normal behavior. Ichigo averted his eyes, but Grimmjow turned his chin, making him face him again. "Talk to me. We don't have to hide shit from each other anymore."

Ichigo was still shaken with nerves. He'd never felt this way about anyone that wasn't his family, and it was too difficult to just lay bare his soul, even though he really wanted to. He reached up and wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's strong neck, burying his face at the base of the boy's throat. He couldn't keep himself together. It was as though everything decided to hit him all at once: how much he missed his mom, the explosive feelings he'd kept hidden for Grimmjow, their unfair family situations... Ichigo inhaled slowly and deeply, trying his damnedest to tuck it all away again. His exhale came out as a breathy chuckle.

"I love you."

The following silence was so thick, Ichigo felt like he could reach out and grab it. What was going through Grimmjow's mind? Was he upset? Had Ichigo unknowingly turned the moment into an awkward one? He carefully pulled away from Grimmjow's neck, already missing the boy's unique scent as his head lowered to the pillow. He kept his eyes tightly shut, hoping against hope that the mood wouldn't turn sour. Why was Grimmjow so quiet?

A hot bead of moisture hit Ichigo's cheek before it slowly rolled down along the line of his jaw. Frowning, he opened his eyes. He was so stunned by what he saw that all he could do was gape at the blue-haired boy. Grimmjow's eyes were bright and shining with tears, even though he wore a deep scowl. It was almost as if Grimmjow didn't realize he was crying. His head moved down until it was resting against Ichigo's chest, his shoulders shuddering as he fought whatever emotions were roiling within him. Ichigo gingerly put his arms around those wide shoulders and pressed his face into soft blue hair.

"Grimm?" Grimmjow's shoulders heaved as he expelled a deep breath. Suddenly, the quiet was dispelled by the boy's soft chuckles. "Grimm?" Ichigo tried again.

Finally, the blue head lifted, and blazing Summer sky eyes gazed down at Ichigo. He was wearing a wide, beautiful grin that was so different and endearing, it took Ichigo's breath away.

"That-" Grimmjow started. He paused and shook his head in obvious disbelief. "I can't even tell you how happy I am right now."

Relief flooded Ichigo as he smiled back. His arms around Grimmjow's shoulders moved to around the boy's strong neck and applied tender pressure in order to bring Grimmjow's face closer to his.

"I think I can take a guess by that goofy grin on your face," he murmured.

Grimmjow's laughter was low and seductive as he brushed his straight nose against Ichigo's. "At least mine ain't as goofy as yours."

"In your dreams, Princess."

Before Ichigo knew it, they were kissing again. This time it was slow and heartwarming – something Ichigo had never experienced before. Yet, he loved every moment of it.

XOXOXO

It was four-thirty in the morning, and he and Ichigo were standing beside their cars, lazily making out. He had a hand under the shorter boy's t-shirt, his palm gliding along sturdy ribs and taut muscles. He wished they didn't have to leave one another after the night they'd shared, but if they didn't, they would only bring more trouble their way. Grimmjow pulled out of the kiss first, his eyes hooded, his body on fire.

"We gotta go," he mumbled before claiming Ichigo's lips once more.

Ichigo chortled into the kiss and ran a lean hand down the side of Grimmjow's face. "So stop kissin' me."

"I'm tryin'."

He meant it too. He was really trying to ease away from the orange-haired teen, but found it more difficult than he'd anticipated. He backed Ichigo against the side of his car as he deepened their kissing. His tongue delved into Ichigo's mouth, engaging the other boy in an oral battle that tightened his groin and set his stomach ablaze. He reached around and gripped Ichigo's firm backside, drawing him closer. They were panting and moaning, and...God, did they really have to stop? He couldn't get enough of his new boyfriend.

" _I love you."_

His stomach fluttered and his heart soared every time he thought about Ichigo's quiet declaration. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that things would progress so far and so fast between him and his once arch nemesis, but everything he learned about Ichigo made him fall a little harder. However, he couldn't say that he wasn't thoroughly enjoying every moment of it.

Ichigo leaned back and pressed his hands against Grimmjow's chest, a long sigh accompanying a look of utter disappointment. "I don't want to leave," he husked.

"Me either."

Grimmjow hated to part with Ichigo, but realized after glancing down at his watch that time really did fly when you were having fun. He groaned and pressed his nose into Ichigo's hair. This was so unfair. He didn't understand why he couldn't just be with the orange-haired teen. Why did his father have to be such a monumental ass? Why couldn't Eric take control of the business, leaving Grimmjow to his own devices?

He straightened and put a hand against Ichigo's chest, giving it a slight push. "Go...'fore I change my mind."

Ichigo's brown eyes smiled a second before his lips did. He stood on his toes and left a soft kiss on Grimmjow's cheek before turning to his car with a small wave. Grimmjow watched Ichigo slide into his car, start it up and glide away with another wave.

"Text me when you get home!" he hollered after Ichigo.

Ichigo tapped the horn and sped off. Grimmjow was heavy with reluctance when he entered his own vehicle. And to think it would only get worse the more time he spent with Ichigo. He didn't care, though. He'd walk through Hell barefoot if it meant he could keep his relationship with Ichigo going. He started the car and jumped when his phone shrilled in the tight silence. He pulled it from his back pocket and smirked at the message.

_I love you..._

Ichigo was trying to kill him. He felt like a girl as it was with all the new emotions jumping around inside of him. He quickly sent a reply before setting the phone in one of the cup holders in the middle console and starting the car.

_Don't drive and text idiot! Do it when you get home. ...And I love you too..._

He didn't check his phone when it chimed again, instead peeling off in the direction of his home with a wide grin.

**XxxxxxX**

School used to be a dull affair, but now, with the promise of seeing Ichigo everyday, it held new meaning. He still had to save face in front of his friends, but it wasn't a total bust. For instance, he knew that Ichigo traveled through the main hallway towards the academic wing during the change from sixth to seventh period. Grimmjow planned to take full advantage of that. He left class a little later than usual, annoyed at how many people still lingered in the long corridor. Thankfully, with his status, the security guards didn't bother him when he was in the halls longer than he should be. He passed the few stragglers, chuckling to himself when one of the burly guards shooed them into their classrooms.

Just as Grimmjow was beginning to think Ichigo wouldn't show, his arm was grabbed, and he was pulled none too gently into a dark room. After stumbling into a yellow mop bucket, he whirled around to face his aggressor. The door slammed, blocking the tiny amount of light that had been filtering into the cramped janitor's closet. And then his back was pressed to the wall, his arms full of enthusiastic teenager. Grimmjow could recognize Ichigo's smell in a room full of people. He dropped his backpack and pulled Ichigo closer, their lips finding each other with an urgency that bordered on desperation. He slid his hands under Ichigo's shirt, savoring the feel of soft skin and tight muscle. Before long, the only sounds in the closet were their heavy breathing, the gentle rustling of clothing, and the wet smacking of their kissing. Finally, Grimmjow figured he needed to breathe.

"Did anybody see you?" he asked into the dark.

Ichigo snickered. "Nope. I left class a few minutes early to beat the rush."

"Why didn't I think of that?"

"'Cuz...you're not as brilliant as me."

"Jerk," Grimmjow grumbled as he tugged Ichigo even closer.

Ichigo gave a quiet moan when one of Grimmjow's hands slid beneath his belt. Between harsh breaths, Ichigo whispered, "Yeah, yeah, yeah...you love it."

Grimmjow growled as he fumbled with Ichigo's jeans. He needed to get that pesky button undone so he could claim his prize, but Ichigo liked his jeans a little fitted, and it was getting annoying.

"Ya know I do. Now...a little help would be nice."

Ichigo chuckled, but he complied, his hands sliding from Grimmjow's chest down to his own pants. Grimmjow listened, eagerness ratcheting up a few levels when the sound of Ichigo's zipper filled the room. Ichigo took one of Grimmjow's hands and guided it to his erection that was peeking through the slit of his boxers. Grimmjow's breath caught in his throat, but he leaned forward, closing the gap between his and Ichigo's faces. He took hold of Ichigo's shaft and groaned along with his boyfriend.

"Much better," he murmured before reclaiming those soft lips that haunted his dreams.

Grimmjow stroked with more urgency than he'd intended, but it was only because Ichigo was undoing his belt and jeans, Ichigo's touch barely there when he slipped his hand into Grimmjow's boxers.

"Oh, man," Grimmjow mumbled.

His words were cut off as Ichigo kissed him again. He was so caught up in the moment, it took him a few seconds to realize that Ichigo had a hand over both of their erections and was bucking wildly into it. Grimmjow hissed and pressed their foreheads together. With Ichigo so wanton, he didn't think he'd be able to last at all. Which was probably what Ichigo wanted. It wasn't like they could take their time.

"I'm gonna cum," Ichigo whispered, voice husky and thick. "Been thinking 'bout this all night and all day."

"Shut up," Grimmjow grunted before hissing again.

He couldn't hold back. It felt too damned good. He grabbed a handful of Ichigo's hair, tilting the shorter teen's head back before thoroughly kissing him. He pumped into Ichigo's fist, fast and hard, providing more friction. Ichigo whined into the kiss, his own hips moving with their own brand of desperation. Using his free hand, Grimmjow palmed and kneaded one of Ichigo's lower cheeks, his pace quickening. Everything caught fire and tightened as he pulled out of the deep kiss. He lowered his lips to Ichigo's extended neck, his breaths coming fast and heavy.

"Oh, my God," Ichigo gasped a second before warmth spilled over his hand and against Grimmjow's lower abdomen.

The sensation sent Grimmjow over the edge. He joined his boyfriend in ecstasy, his teeth sinking gently into Ichigo's neck. He shuddered as his orgasm was wrung from him like a wet cloth. After a few moments, his hips finally slowed to a standstill, but his breathing was still coming in hurried, deep gulps. Ichigo was the first to recover, his voice vibrating with a low chuckle.

"Damn, that felt amazing."

Grimmjow could only grunt with approval. His body felt like a sack of potatoes: heavy and slumped over. Ichigo nuzzled Grimmjow's neck, his grin apparent even though Grimmjow couldn't see his face.

"I could use a nap right 'bout now," Grimmjow muttered into Ichigo's neck.

Ichigo outright laughed as he ran his fingers through Grimmjow's bangs. He loved when Ichigo played with his hair. He leaned into the caress and kept his eyes closed. He'd meant what he'd said about a nap. He was completely spent for the time being, and he really didn't want to separate from Ichigo.

"We gotta go back to class, though."

"Don' remind me." Grimmjow slowly backed out of Ichigo's embrace with a sideways grin. "That was fun. Same time an' place tomorrow?"

He could hear Ichigo moving around in the darkness, but there was a lengthy pause before the teen cackled. "You're such a perv, Grimm."

"Me?! Yer the one-"

Ichigo shut him up with another kiss, tender and filled with unspoken promises. Grimmjow indulged him, but after a while, he grinned into the lip lock.

"That's not gonna work all the time, ya know?" he grumbled.

"Yeah, right," Ichigo scoffed, running a hand over Grimmjow's shirt. "You're helpless in my hands."

Grimmjow didn't like the cocky sound of Ichigo's tone, but screw it. He'd let the boy get away with murder at this point.

"Shut up," he muttered.

For a while, the only noise that could be heard was Ichigo's soft breathing and the slight rustling of his clothes. Grimmjow really didn't want to move, didn't want to leave that closet, but he knew time wouldn't stand still for them. He sighed and pressed his face into Ichigo's soft hair.

"I guess we should go now," Ichigo said, his voice muffled against Grimmjow's shirt.

Grimmjow nodded. "Yeah. Hey what are you doing this weekend?"

Ichigo paused. "I didn't have anything specific planned. Why?"

"I wanna see you."

Ichigo chuckled, but Grimmjow could hear the satisfaction in it. "So, you wanna meet up somewhere again?"

"Hell, yeah. Just don't know where yet. We can talk about it later, I guess."

"Sounds good to me."

Ichigo wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's neck and teasingly brushed his lips against Grimmjow's cheek. Grimmjow smirked as he folded the shorter boy into his embrace.

"I like it when you get all mushy."

"Shut up," Ichigo snapped.

The words were entirely without heat, though. Well, not the negative kind anyway. Before Grimmjow could respond in kind, they were kissing again. Hell, at this rate, they'd never leave the closet, and that was just fine by him. His lower half was just beginning to heat up and stir to life when Ichigo backed away, taking all of that pleasant warmth with him.

"Come on before we start something we can't finish in here."

Grimmjow sucked his teeth. Before? It was a little too late for that, but he'd let it go for now. Though what he really wanted to do was drag his boyfriend back to his chest and...

"Didja hear me?" Ichigo interrupted.

"Fine, fine. You owe me for this."

"What? How?"

Grimmjow eased away from the wall, his legs a little unsteady. He was astounded by the complete 180 degree turn his thoughts had undergone when it came to the orange-haired teenager. Now, instead of annoying him, everything Ichigo did made him smile.

"You knew what you were doin' when ya kissed me like that," Grimmjow grunted.

He could _hear_ Ichigo's wicked grin. "Yeah, well...gives you something to look forward to, right?"

"Heh, I don't need a kiss for that to happen."

After the words left his mouth, he realized just how cheesy they sounded. Ichigo's resulting cackle didn't help the embarrassing moment either.

"Awww. You _can_ be cute when you try hard enough."

Grimmjow lowered his voice and edged closer to where Ichigo stood. "I'm gonna kick your ass."

Ichigo bolted, and they spilled from the janitor's closet, laughing. Thankfully, the hallway was empty and silent. Grimmjow turned both ways just to make sure before he grabbed Ichigo's arm and pulled him close. He dipped his head and kissed him.

"See ya 'round, OK?" he murmured.

Ichigo's brown eyes had gone a little distant and glazed before he nodded and adjusted his backpack. Grimmjow grinned as they left in opposite directions. Yeah, his life had changed alright, but he couldn't say that it was a bad thing.

XOXOXO

"Where the hell were you?" Szayel snapped across the aisle while the teacher's back was turned. "You're almost twenty minutes late!"

Ichigo gave a secretive grin. Szayel didn't need to know everything. Sure, he knew that Grimmjow was Zorro, and Ichigo still owed the pink-haired brat an ass kicking for that, but there were some things Ichigo planned to keep to himself. Like the fact that he and Grimmjow were officially an item and actually in love with one another. Heat spread across his cheeks and crept down to his neck, totally giving him away. When he peered at Szayel from the corner of his eye, he grimaced. The jerk wore a smug smirk as he sat back in his seat and adjusted his glasses.

"Well," Szayel mumbled. "Well, well, well."

Shit. Now he had to find a way to keep his friend out of his hair about his whereabouts. He decided to ignore Szayel for the rest of the class, but as soon as the bell rang, signaling its end, Szayel hovered over him, arms folded across his slender chest.

"You are _not_ getting away without telling me what's going on. Why you insist on trying to hide things from me is beyond my comprehension."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. Only Szayel could make an insult sound like a college lecture. Ichigo climbed to his feet and stuffed his things into his backpack. He was taking his time, stalling, as he tried to figure out what he was going to tell the pink-haired teen.

"I just had a few things to take care of," he finally came up with.

"Really," Szayel scoffed. "Don't insult my intelligence, Ichigo. Where were you today? Does this have anything to do with Zorro?" he crooned.

Ichigo blushed at the thought of Grimmjow and his striking, blue eyes. Not to mention, what had occurred in the janitor's closet...that _Ichigo_ had initiated. He smiled, inwardly proud of himself. Before he'd pulled Grimmjow into the closet, he hadn't thought he would have the courage to go through with it. But peering through the tiny gap at the taller teen had changed his mind. Ichigo rubbed a hand over his face, willing the flush to disappear. It didn't work.

"Ohhhh?" Szayel continued. "I take it that's a big yes. So...what am I missing?"

Ichigo sighed. Szayel was haughty and annoying, but he was still Ichigo's best friend. "We're going out," Ichigo blurted as he brushed past.

Szayel was right on his heels. "Eh? Wait! Ichigo!" Szayel gripped his elbow, halting Ichigo outside of the classroom. He glanced around to make sure they weren't being listened to before he leaned in, mustard-colored eyes wide. "So, does this mean you know who Zorro really is?"

Ichigo glared. "Yeah, no thanks to you!"

"Well!" Szayel huffed. "I didn't have a choice really. Once Ilforte gets into his romantic stage, he's impossible to deal with. He insisted we keep your identities a secret in order to allow you buffoons to figure it out on your own. It worked, did it not?"

Ichigo had to admit that it did. And maybe if he'd known beforehand who Zorro really was, things wouldn't have ended up so unbearably wonderful. Did that mean he had to _thank_ Szayel? God, he hoped not. The teen was insufferable when he was smug. Szayel grinned as if he could read Ichigo's thoughts.

"You're welcome. But you _must_ tell me the details. I want to know _everything_. How did this come to pass? I really can't believe the two of you are over whatever animosity was between you."

Ichigo hung his head as he allowed Szayel to lead him to their next class. How he wished they didn't have a nearly identical schedule. He really wasn't in the mood to have his brand new emotions exposed to criticism.

"I started remembering things," Ichigo muttered, hesitant at first. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I remembered that Zorro had the same blue eyes as Grimmjow, had the same face, same smile, same smell..." By now, Ichigo was blushing again. "So, I asked if we could meet up. He wanted to do the same. I guess, he was starting to remember things too. We got together at Skyline and that's where I found out for certain that Zorro was in fact Grimmjow."

"Mmm...and?"

Ichigo huffed a breath and rolled his eyes. "Well, we agreed not to contact one another anymore, but I guess, by then it was too late. We both liked each other, so it was kind of hard to just forget about what had happened. So...I, uh...I ended up texting him because I was bored. We ended up talking, and things just went from there," he ended, aware of the vague nature of his statement.

"I asked for details, you know," Szayel prodded.

"Well, I don't kiss and tell!" Ichigo snapped.

Which was a blatant lie. Normally, he did with Szayel, but he refused to show his best friend just how shyly Grimmjow made him behave. He lifted his chin in defiance and focused straight ahead. Szayel chuckled.

"Oh, this is absolutely adorable, Ichigo." Ichigo turned a withering glare at Szayel. "I'll let you off the hook this one time, but I have to know one thing!"

"What, Pinky?"

"Don't call me that horrible name. You know it displeases me. Anyway, do you love him? I know you're serious because you never miss a chance to regale me with your sexual conquests, but...does that mean what I'm thinking?"

Ichigo flushed again. Damn, Szayel for being so fucking perceptive. He wasn't going to answer that. When Szayel realized that Ichigo didn't intend to speak, he smirked.

"I see. So, that's an obvious yes. Well, I, for one, am _very_ happy for you, Ichigo. I never understood why the two of you hated one another simply because of a stupid family feud. Your personalities are a perfect match, and it's about time that you idiots saw it."

"I hate you," Ichigo mumbled, helpless.

What could he do? Szayel was right in every sense of the word. Not only that, but he and his brother were directly responsible for Ichigo and Grimmjow's relationship. Ichigo sighed and turned to his friend before they entered their next class.

"I hate saying this because I know how awful about it you can be, but...thanks, Szayel. If it weren't for you and your brother, me and Grimm wouldn't be together."

Szayel stared at him for what felt like forever before a tiny grin lifted the corner of his mouth. "Grimm, is he?"

Ichigo shoved Szayel's shoulder and stormed into the classroom. See what he got for trying to be nice? He rubbed his hands over his face again, trying to dispel the redness.

It didn't work.


End file.
